


Scales and Fangs, Venom and Blood

by Morningwing



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Kinme clan (OC clan), Manda is done with her shit, My First Fanfic, Ninja Culture, OC-centric for first few chapters, Original Character Death(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pianos appear, Pre-Canon, Reincarnation, SI-OC fic, Sannin Era, Worldbuilding, a bit of sprinkled angst, a trolling main character, light gore, might go AU, racism towards some clans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-06 17:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 77,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8761936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morningwing/pseuds/Morningwing
Summary: Mood: Extremely pissed. Excitement is good, but when you finally wake up (from what's supposed to be death) to see two pair of golden eyes peering down at you, you know that life is going to be a one way trip to hell in a hand-basket. Semi SI-OC





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Snake In the Grass, a Wolf At the Door](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348309) by [blackkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat). 



> Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) don't own Naruto

**Prologue ******

I absentmindedly tapped my sneakers on the tiled floor — a tad impatient, but mostly intimidated by all the well-dressed people nearby. I was only here to deliver a box of take-out, so why does it seem like everyone is criticizing me with their eyeballs? I certainly get that my attire, which largely consisted of comfortable  _informal_  clothes with my workplace's embalm, was a bit out of place, but seriously? Don't these people have paper they're supposed to file or places they're supposed to be (like their work stalls or something)?

****

_Whatever_ , a girl's gotta do what she needs to do.

****

But even so, it was a relief when the door to the office finally opened and I could enter the damn room. Giving the man within his order and taking the money with a faux cheerful "thank you for your order" (no one could really tell the difference anyway, except for my sister), I left the cramped space with all the subtlety of a uncomfortable cat.

****

After all, a student/bookworm/random-facts-nerd/parkour-lover shouldn't have anything to do with the bigwigs in a company as "awesome" as this.

****

I sauntered down the right side of the hallway, looking all the confident human I'm not, all the while trying to ignore the lack of subtlety in the glances that all the employees were shooting me. To my great relief, the elevator was just around the corner, which meant fresh air and freedom. Looking around for any bystanders, I repeatedly stabbed at the down button, although the logical corner of my mind complained to me that no matter what I did to the poor elevator the metal box wouldn't come faster.

****

*Perhaps if I were more patient, I wouldn't have ended up where I was now*

****

The breath that escaped out of relief was not completely unintended when the door *dinged*. I skirted into the elevator to avoid possible  _homo sapiens_  without a second thought and watched the doors close after pressing the button for the lobby, all-the-while mentally mapping out the route I needed to take back to my workplace for the next order and utterly ignoring the incredulous look the other person in the elevator levelled at my appearance.

****

I honestly couldn't care less about him.

****

But  _soon_  I could go free and run, (or bike) — unhindered by any objects on my back such as a forgettable box of Chinese takeout.

****

The first time I squashed the food will also be the last, lest I risk the fury of my boss and unemployment, something I really can't risk at the moment.

****

Shoving away that uncomfortable thought, a smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. Nothing could beat the sheer exhilaration of being able to run, heedless of obstacles, through a city of steel and concrete, or flying on a bike through crowded streets and down forgotten alleys. But mainly the freedom, was undeniably worth dying for, even if I can only run and do rolls, maybe jump off an occasional ledge or two.

****

For nothing,  _nothing_  could beat the feeling of the wind and the knowing that my life is in my hands and my hands only, and mine to do what I want to, without restrictions (unless it's devouring a book, filled to the brim with magic and universes sans the concept us measly humans both love and hate, the concept of logic). Too many rules and laws have already been pushed onto me, which only heightened the freedom I feel when the only limits are the physical ones like the distance that I could jump or the height that I could climb.

****

Parkour has really gotta be the best method of travelling out there, and it's certainly underrated when compared to all the other sports. But then, it's quite dangerous and the mental requirements pose quite a problem… so, never mind…

****

After the man stopped staring at me, I gave him a quick glance. Impeccable suit, smug/stoic/sneering face, then coupled with professional looking glasses topped the feeling of a "pro"  _*coughmanwithastickuphisasscough*_. So, he's basically one of the ego-inflated faceless humanoid masses that this building housed, excluding the janitor. And the Front Desk, all caps. About a full tenth of the people in the building pretty much bought their way into work (which really is sort of against the point of working) and definitely aren't fit for their positions — blame gossip and open secrets, or maybe just smokescreens.

****

That was a very random train of thought.

****

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, allowing the douchbag that previously shared the metal box with me to get out. No one else came in, not that I would've cared much anyway, being around formal people makes me nervous/want to punch their face/bury my pitiful existence in a big pile of books and facts and never dig myself out.

****

I shot a glance at the floor number, a large green 17. Welp, this elevator is sure slow…the one in the mall would be at the fifth floor or something by now.

****

Suddenly the elevator shuddered in its relatively smooth descent and I began to regret taking a metal box suspended by wires. I really should've just taken the stairwell, even if it was hopping on the rails instead of the legitimate stairs. There's been too many reports of elevators malfunctioning and getting stuck between floors, what if this happens now…? My boss would kill me and I wouldn't have time to go home to study for the tests tomorrow…I sort of need to return the bike too, unless the boss was being nice…

****

Never-mind, there was a larger chance of people discovering the secret to life's formation then my boss being generous.

****

Mind made up, I poked the floor button for 14 to get off early, taking the stairways is nothing compared to the wrath of my employer or professor, and saving energy to parkour back to work wouldn't take too much time. If worse came to worse, I could just walk like any other sane person instead of risking slow-death by traffic.

****

_Did I just subconsciously consider myself insane?_

****

Just when the elevator s-c-r-e-e-c-h-e-d to a halt (it's not supposed to screech is it?), I prepared to exit the damning box, only to realize that it was on the 15th floor. My thingy-that-pumped-blood chilled. The elevator shuddered once more before it started free-fall. Along with the rest of my internal organs, my stomach stayed on floor 14 as the rest of me — body, brain and spirit, obviously sans most organs —- plunged downwards towards certain death.

****

_At least I would go out with a bang?_

****

(after the bang I'll end up as a little splatter on the bottom of the shaft, so, not as encouraging as I had previously thought)

****

My life did not flash before my eyes, as I predicted, but the world slowed down and everything seemed detached, as if I was watching someone else plummet to their death via faulty elevator.

****

The last thoughts that I would ever have as a teenager living in the 21st century was, indeed, rather insignificant.

****

_Whelp, I forgot to return my library book._

****

* * *

****

_Darkness_.

****

Darkness pressed down on all sides, suffocating like the Mariana trench (not like I've ever been there, but one can dream, unless, you know, one is dead).

****

I could see nothing (but darkness, or does darkness not count?), hear nothing, feel nothing, and smell nothing.

****

For some reason the last one bothered me the most, and only with a jolt did I understand why.

****

_I'm not breathing._

****

My mind flipped to full on panic mode, I desperately attempted to draw breath into my lungs.

****

_Nothing_.

****

Turns out I no longer have lungs, or at the very least, can no longer feel them.

****

More panicking resulted in me recalling my last moments, where the cold metal bit into flesh and I got brutally murdered(?) by a malfunctioning elevator.

****

Now that's embarrassing.

****

With another topic that I could turn to, I abandoned the previous depressing thread of thought, cuz that's what I do, isn't it? After all, I might not be actually dead.

****

Thinking about it, if I'm still conscious and aware (not really, I'm not, at least I don't think so? Somehow I still have the capability to wonder about the weirdness of life, so… that's a plus), then I'm probably in a coma or something. Huh, that's an interesting thought. If I'm in a coma, then which part of my brain is damaged so that I can't interact with my surroundings? A coma would mean that my brain stem would be more or less intact, and more or less able to keep me alive (probably), but doesn't say much about the cerebella whatever. My balance may be completely doomed when I regain "life", pity, that'll damage some of my possible life choices. And that's not even taking into account the cerebrum, even now humankind doesn't know enough about our brain but I'm quite certain that our thought processes and etc. originate from this portion of the brain and if I can still think sophisticated thoughts like these (questioning my position between life and death for example), then there must be enough intact.

****

But then, according to some random facts blog I followed on Tumblr, we can lose half of our brain and it would affect us in no ways at all. Unfortunately, I'm not actually sure of which parts were removable without backlash.

****

However, without vision, hearing, sense of smell, taste, and touch, I might as well be dead, Tumblr posts notwithstanding.

****

What is categorized as alive anyways?

****

I'm capable of thought, probably have an intact body, and definitely a brain. Can't really say I'm spiritually dead either.

****

Hopefully I'll be able to "wake up" again soon, or at the very least before the plug is pulled. That would be rather unfortunate as I'm quite attached to my life.

****

But the darkness seems to be calling and I'm very quite tired.

****

If I'm only living in my brain, what would taking a little nap do anyway?

****


	2. In the sort-of In-Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our lovely protagonist is very confused, and wants out. Somewhat literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapters will probably be posted on Sundays due to Mondays being annoying, and will continues in this fashion until it catches up with those on the other site.

A lot.

Taking a short nap while presumably in a coma (dead) can do a lot.

When I sort of woke up again, everything was groggy and my higher brain functions were all shot.

(Goodbye higher brain functions. I might miss you... Not. Actually yes... Very much yes.)

Therefore, no more pondering the mysteries of life for me, woo-hoo. Maybe now my undead/comatose brain can get a rest.

Considering the enveloped state from before, my surroundings have definitely changed. Or rather, my capabilities to sense the surroundings, but the less said about possible interactions, the better (as kicking attempts weren't felt at all. In fact, I might even be punching, not like I can tell much anyway.)

Recalling knowledge from BC (before coma), I remembered that there was a coach who was also in a coma but woke up after his team announced that their team had won, so there has to be  _ some _ measure of interaction between a comatose patient and the surrounding environment -- the only problem being how much?

But now it seems less like a coma and more of a…a…actually I have no damn clue. Comas generally don’t give people supernatural senses, do they? And this energy that seems to  _ thrum _ in tandem with the constant beating I can hear are evidently things that aren’t usually present in life. Not to mention the fact that I can barely hear, or even  _ feel, _ my weak heartbeat, a feeble fluttering compared to the steady  _ ba-dump _ , _ ba-dump  _ of a strong cardiac muscle that I’ve gotten used to.  _ Ugh, I can’t even fall into a coma right, I think although It’s not like I can care much now anyway. _

* * *

Time passed, and my senses have not only become stronger, but also no longer as confined. Like before, I dozed in and out of the possible realm of consciousness, interspaced with growing clarity that I was not in a coma.  

Ignoring my little existential crisis, the persistent pounding of the other thing seemed to decrease with time; either it was getting weaker, or it was getting farther away. Sound also has become more muffled instead of the stifled whispers that had garnered my attention every now-and-then; not like it mattered since I couldn’t tell what was said to begin with. 

At least it's not for lack of trying, but what I managed to snag with my ears was only complete and utter gibberish. Who the hell let babies and lizards into my room? At least the music was pleasant, mostly instrumental with barest hints of gibberish. 

And then a day came where my surroundings temporarily squashed me, and I became pissed/very annoyed. Given my limited mobility, I attempted to kick and claw at the membrane that seemed to want to compress me into a little ball of sludge, but nothing happened.

(Other than the membrane continuing to press down on me, that is.)

For some unfathomable reason, it felt as if I would be free once the membrane was removed. But alas, the substance was too strong for my weak limbs.

Of course, that’s with the prerequisite that I could move my limbs at all, and that it wasn’t all a figment of my overly bored imagination.

Distantly, I could hear screaming -- from a source close by. 

Weird.  _ I wonder how  _ that _ works. _

The uncomfortable feeling persisted for a while. And just when I thought I would die, everything went back to normal, albeit with a change in scenery, and strings of gibberish floating into my ears. Some of the voices sounded very  _ happy? Overjoyed?  _ I'm not sure. Not to mention one of the voices definitely needed a cough drop.  

The previously  soft darkness of my surroundings was instead replaced with a muffled dark blue, and the physical aspects of my surroundings also seemed much harder than they were previously.. 

I’m definitely not in a coma anymore,  _ what the shit is my life? _

As if that wasn't enough, for some reason I felt like I could free-float. Still without breathing. Actually, I probably  _ am _ drawing breath, but just not  _ in a way I'm used to?  _ Much like outer space, perhaps?

Continuing on with the free-float train of thought as these questions are breaking my now near non-existent sanity...

_ I'm an astronaut! Yay! _

_ … _

_ I can hear my maturity getting pulled into the deepest pits of hell… _

Then,  _ maturity is overrated anyway. _

The thrumming energy had changed though, and only when it was gone did I notice that the large  _ ba-thumps _ actually regulated the energy, albeit barely, and that now the energy seemed almost overpowering. 

Some measure of order was restored by my own heartbeat? I think? But due to it being very weak, the energy seeped into me without consent. It didn't hurt much although it did make me feel drowsy. The energy of the surroundings seemed to be more of an ocean, while mine was barely there, like a tiny tablespoon of water. My heart was like a miniature backwards sifter or something, (my sister loves baking, but somehow I would always end up washing everything...), trying to make sure that my energy didn’t spill out into the great beyond, while also filtering the outside energy into something my body could use. Or maybe it wasn’t my heart, but perhaps the blue. The foreign energy (I’m getting tired of the word energy. I think I’ll just use mc 2 , blame Einstein or something...) constantly trickles through me, and appears to change some fundamental portion of who I am, but honestly,  _ who am I now? _

Now only hanging onto consciousness via a tiny string of linked numbers (pi=3.1415926535…), something niggled at my brain. If the weaker heartbeat (mine), was able to control the ene...errr...mc 2 (barely), then shouldn't it follow up with the fact that the louder thumps, were, in fact, heartbeats of another? 

_ Shit, _ did that mean that I was in my...um ...maternal figure? 

_ In another life? _

_ The hell? _

_ NononononONONONO I cannot be reborn! _

What if my family reaches the afterlife and realizes that I'm missing? What if they try to find me but lose their memories (isn't that the normal route)?  _ What if I can't find them again? _ What if...what if... _ What if...?? _

_ Denial and ‘what ifs’  aren't healthy _ scolded the logical part of my brain. 

_ Shut up and deal with me you annoying cell sludge  _ retorted the more emphatic portion.

Apparently arguing with oneself brings on exhaustion ( _ who knew?)  _ and my (possibly non-existent) eyelids fluttered. At least the blue meant a change in scenery. 

Gimme a sec. 

...The hell is up with the blue? 

Didn't the screaming mean that I should be born? Shouldn’t I be screaming too?

_ Gahhh! _

Apparently thinking tires out the infant/fetal/(comatose) brain because the world started to drift, like I was picked up and cradled, before being rocked in a gentle lullaby.

A soft humming sound vibrated the blue and its soothing melody calmed me.

Then the energy seemed to soften, like a mother bird caressing her hatchlings, and soon I once again slept in its soothing embrace.

* * *

As before, I drifted in and out of the waking world for indefinite periods of time, however the pattern between each waking and sleeping period seemed to be that I could stay awake longer.

Not being able to breathe like a normal human being no longer bothered me, enough time was given to adjust, after all. Even if my lungs were still capable of pulling in  _ something _ , I no longer cared. I’m supposed to be dead, and once upon a time I would’ve said that anything would be better. 

No longer does that hold true. 

What does life hold beyond the emotions and memories gained and lost after all? If nothing remained, death would seem like the better choice, especially if I can see  _ them _ again in another, better world. At least, in a world where worries are as fleeting as a brush of wind at a coast in summer. 

But then, reincarnation is supposed to be a myth, and not something that is generally taken into account. Especially when memories of a life lived loved and treasured are concerned.

No matter, this is a second chance, and knowing that there is  _ more _ after death, perhaps living will be enjoyed more, or less. Depends on the perspective.

And I’m getting too morbid aren’t I?

Well, must be the lack of entertainment.

As with most of my other functions, I had finally regained some meager control over my four limbs (and head, never forget the head), but all four senses were dulled. Why four?  _ Weellll _ , the state of my nostrils (and my lungs for that matter) probably is an explanation itself. 

Over the periods of time where I was graced with consciousness, I could tell that the flowing energy (sorry Einstein, but energy is much easier to remember then some physic concept) had apparently decided to base itself in my back, or around the area that I would assume to be my spine. At least it wasn’t my tail bone, if it gave me a legit tail or something,  _ someone (who’s not me)will die _ .

Gibberish could still be heard, but less than before I was encased in whatever the blue is. However, it was traded for more hissing, like, a  _ lot _ of hissing.

So...Nope, not human. Nothing mammalian could make sounds like that.

Perhaps a reptile? But why the hell would I be sharing space with a reptile?

The blue also seemed closer somehow, although I was still free floating. The weird thing was that I couldn’t get close to the blue, as it seems like there was an invisible ( _ pffft,sort of _ ) wall that separated me from the blue. 

Time however, allowed me to grow closer to the blue. 

It wasn't fast, as I had no concept of time whatsoever, but I knew that somehow the blue was getting closer, or just whatever the blue represents. In fact, it seemed to press in on me from all sides.

Not close enough for my measly sense of touch to function, but enough so that I felt mildly claustrophobic.

Well, at least that was  before the day when the blue finally touched and I finally realised that I needed to  _ get the effing hell out of here. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comment and bookmark and I'm so very happy! Anyhow, please leave a review on the way out!  
> If anyone wants to pop a question, I'm also on Tumblr as Morningwing!


	3. Hatching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the protagonist is pissed, and not all that punny

_ I hate this I hate this I hate this why the hell is this my shitty life? _

After finally coming to the realization that the blue was friggin’ _pressing_ ** _in_** on me, I figured that it was my cue to get out of here. Wherever “here” is. 

Unfortunately, the minuscule amount of strength that I could muster to my limbs wasn't even close to what was needed. No amount of stretching allowed me to expand my space and all actions in a single direction were met with unyielding resistance. Not even far enough to punch, let alone kick, as if my weakness wasn’t apparent enough...

So now, here I am, stuck in a fetal position with walls on all four (six if you're talking details) directions, with only a couple of inches to spare on all sides. 

Well, at least I think they're inches, but spatial measurements are all relative so there might only be a couple millimetres.Who knows? ( _ Certainly not me. _ )

How did the walls get this close to me without me noticing? Like, granted, I was paying more attention to my inner dialogue because  _ everything was so damn boring _ , but this is just ridiculous. Unless even my brain * _ cough-hormones-cough* _ was conspiring against me, there honestly aren't many reasons why I wouldn't notice the only constant in my present condition (this isn't my life, nope), was trying to squash me. 

Looks like I'll need to pay more attention from now on; in case my luck decides to kill me via something other than faul-...Too early, not going there. Don't think anything can get me through  _ that _ , I'll probably need a miracle working shrink or something. 

Anyways, as a brilliant (but dead man) said in a book, “ _ Constant vigilance!”  _ But alas(tor), he still died…

That… Was not as punny as I had hoped. Must be the blues.

Oh well, my brain is only as alive as the rest of me, which isn't always that much.

Now, if only I could get actual  _ oxygen _ to fuel my O2 deprived brain…

Then again, I could only struggle in futility against the barriers that now seemed to constantly push against me, even if there was no actual contact beyond my extremities (and back). It felt relatively smooth? Unfortunately, I can’t really trust my sense of touch right now so it might just be as wrinkled as a dried prune. Or raisin. Take your pick, I couldn’t care less.

I allowed my fingers to glide across the surface of the walls only with limited mobility, as there was barely enough wriggle room to permit my elbows to shift.

Actually…

Like what one of the martial arts instructors that I had once upon a time said, “elbows are for cutting”, or something like that. While punches and kicks can generally cause plenty of damage with blunt force, elbows are sharp in a way that fists aren’t. Knees can do similar damage, but in my condition, they will only break my nose. 

So technically, if I jab my elbows hard enough, it should break through!

_ …boing...boing...boing...ba-chh _

_ Owww… _

Welp, my elbows now hurt like heck, but there was clearly an indent in my surroundings, as the once uniform blue was now veined with webs of bright, eye-searing skyblue. At least the place where I jammed my elbow was like that, everywhere else remained the same. With my elbows facing behind me, however, it wasn’t like I could see the entire extent of the site of impact.

However, even a  _ hint _ of the cobweb-like cracks gave me a sense of hope. More than what I had ever since  _ that, _ even if my eyes felt like they were going to be burned and shrivelled like tiny, dried cranberries.

I might’ve imagined the webs of blue too, considering the fact that my eyesight was smudged as hell. Wouldn’t it be ironic if I was born far-sighted again? At least I got rid of my glasses after the age of ten, but who knew what could be considered eye treatment wherever I am now? _ Bah,  _ who cares about eyesight when there’s hope of getting out of this confinement?

_ Freedom is mine! _ I inwardly crowed, before freezing. An unneeded and unbidden question floated to the frontal lobe of my brain.  _ What the heck is out there? _

Taking into account the state that I’m in, it wouldn’t be farfetched to say that I’m in some sort of spherical construct, where everything is blue and floating and so very  _ warm _ . And safe. 

My expectations have been shattered enough the past few somethings to know that whatever is out there  _ probably _ isn’t what I would expect. Given that I have finally conceded the point that I’m not in a coma but was reincarnated (after a failure of a death), well, the world outside could be inhabited by giant-man eating spiders, not a pleasant thought.

There were some situations that I thought might’ve been able to be applied to me, but most of them seem to be too crazy even for me. Yes, reincarnation is crazy, but that’s a thought for another time, like for my next life perhaps. But the blue that envelops me and the hissing… they can only mean one thing,  _ right?  _ And there aren’t many other plausible explanations either.

Now that I wasn’t trying to destroy the bones of my very pained elbow, sounds could clearly be heard from outside of my confinement. Most of it being rapid-fire gibberish that I’ve nearly gotten used to by now, and some being the reptilian hissing that were present throughout my stay in the blue.

I did an imitation of a gulp, as I have determined that my body was currently submerged in goo. No wonder I couldn’t breathe, but at least the goo didn’t seem to choke me.

Without moving, I tried to listen to what was transpiring on the outside, a feat that was accomplished and yet did nothing as a result of me not understanding a single syllable of what was being said. But with the web of brightness that told me that an outside world truly existed, the gibberish became more pronounced and less like muffled gobbledegook (like I knew what it sounded like anyway). For one, it was much smoother although there was rasping present, along with hissing. So, at least there aren’t any goblins out there, what a relief.

_ How sad it is that I must listen to my own sarcasm all day. _

At least with one (of many) worst-case scenarios out the way, I can tell people that I thought before acting, for once. So nobody can blame me when I started bashing my poor elbow against the blue again. 

With each subsequent bash, I could hear my surroundings creak, or make a  _ pzzt _ sound, a bit like when you just gently tap an egg while it was slowly chipping, but a bit wetter and more… dunno, connected?

Ooo _ ohhhh _ …

I’m screwed, aren’t I?

At least it means I’m not in a test tube for reptilian-human hybrids. It could’ve been so much worse than hatching from an egg... 

Did that mean from now on, I’ll be celebrating  _ effin’ hatchdays  _ instead of  _ birthdays _ ? Whoa. Shit just got real.

But for my birthdays to permanently change to hatchdays, I’ll need to get out of the egg first. And ain’t that something you don’t think every day?

For now though, I’m a bit tired, fetal limbs aren’t good for smashing through walls of calcium carbonate, and unlike most things that hatch from an egg, I don’t have any egg teeth. As a matter of fact, do I even have a bellybutton anymore? Or am I a platypus? Being quite sure that I’m a mammal and yet still hatching from an egg can guarantee that I’ll think that I’m going delusional. So, not anything new.

_ Heh, yeah right… _

Sleep claimed me soon after.

 

**Line Break**

 

I exhausted easily, and it took me four waking periods to actually break through the shell and not just cause faint imprints of lighter blue smudges. 

But now, now I could clearly feel the light streaming in, even with eyes shut tightly because  _ damn _ it’s bright out there. Even with the actual hole in the shell positioned somewhere around my right elbow, the light was absolutely blinding. Considering the fact that I was virtually living as a bat in dark blue cave for the past couple (insert period of time here because I sure as hell don’t know), it wouldn’t be strange if I looked like an albino when I finally get out. 

As it was, I could feel the faint tugging of the meager amount of gel that enveloped me sluggishly leaking out of the hole. The sense of zero-gravity that I had since the beginning was beginning to vanish, as slowly the cushioning liquid vanished behind my elbow. Turns out I was fetal positioning on my front-ish right side, so it made sense that the goo would leak out from there. As the liquid level slowly dropped in my little cavern, I realized that I would breathe again. But, that would require me emptying my lungs of all the goop that had stuck around inside of me ever since I realized that breathing air wasn’t an option.

And if I manage to only partly ridding my lungs of the liquid but air can still enter, well. I have no illusions that I will not choke. 

Conclusion: remove thyself from egg least risk death of suffocation.  

Therefore, I struggled. 

An egg is a sturdy capsule because it is more or less round, thus resulting in the pressure being evenly distributed when applied to the shell over a large area. However, it can and  _ will _ break when all the force is focused onto a single spot, that is the reason why my elbows were so good at breaking the shell. But once the sphere-like construct is damaged, like with a hole, then everything becomes much easier. 

Over the course of my waking periods where most of my energy was focused on destroying eggshell with my puny arm bones, I had noticed that the egg was stretchable, but barely. And now when I tried to uncurl from the position had held me for so long, a dull  _ crack _ vibrated through my bones. Thankfully not  _ from _ my bones, small mercies, I suppose. 

The smudge that was barely on my peripheral vision from when the shell first cracked had elongated into a slash in the once dark blue. Then it split in two.

 

**Line Break**

 

I might’ve fell out, or might’ve somehow rolled out of my temporary residence, but I’ll never know due to the tiny event being a blur.

With all my strength gone, I could only remember screaming or wailing, and probably a lot of crying(perhaps for joy). Either way, not the proudest moment I’ve ever had in any of my two lives. As a result of air finally hitting the inside of my lungs and then compounded on with the brightness and sheer  _ loudness _ of everything, everything was hazy in the back of my mind..

I don’t know how much longer it took me to wake up again, but when I did, my eyes didn’t open immediately. Instead, I reveled in the sensation of breathing again, and being able to hear without a layer of shell. Actually, I took stock of all of my senses first before opening my eyes, and realized that even without sight, I had five.

_ What. The. Hell. _

Even though I had taken stock of the energy when I was inside of the egg, it was nothing compared to the outside. Now that the barrier was gone, it became apparent that the shell itself was infused with the energy. The energy outside of the egg was much less solid? And it felt a heck lot freer, except for the blots of concentrated energy moving around. Welp, this is weird, but my life. But still weird.

In fact, there were three such blobs of energy hovering right around me, with one of them a it more restrained than the other two, perhaps a bit like dry ice? That would imply that the energy wanted to evaporate though, and therefore incorrect. 

Oh well. I don’t really care anymore. How much worse can it get?

So I opened my eyes.

And managed to spot two pairs of glowing golden lamps hovering in an expanse of white, the source of the two not-so-muffled energy. Then I looked up and realized that the green ceiling wasn’t a ceiling at all, surrounded by a pleasant purple, the green  _ blinked _ .

I screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter updates gonna be on Sundays (probably) indwell continue so for a while yet. As a side note, the chapters just won't stop growing, which will soon be evident. Like previously stated, I'm on Tumblr under the same name!


	4. Teenage Babies are (un)Observant Little Shits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

Yay, I’m still human. Yippee, I’m still a girl. Booooo,  _ goddamnit _ I’m a friggin’ infant with possible back problems.

The first few (around six I think?) months of my new life was definitely not something I’m proud of, and screaming the first time I saw my er...ka-san’s bigass ( _ pet _ ?) snake is a moment that I will forever bury in my brain. But then again, why the hell can a snake grow and shrink by will? And why, dear kami (great, this language is rubbing off on me), can he be _ so damn big? _ Geez, that isn’t natural.

Nothing is “ _ natural” _ anymore.  _ Gahhh. _

Some events like the aforementioned banshee screaming will hopefully be bleached from my brain by the time I’m two, but  _ why, oh WHY, did I have to endure the same treatment as a baby? _

Not having control of my bowel was just plain embarrassing, diaper changing included, and being fed in  _ that _ way was  _ not _ something I want to remember. Being baby burped (or whatever it’s called) was equally as embarrassing. Then to add insult to injury, apparently the little control over my limbs that I was able to exert during my tenure as mayor of egg-ville was just a result of only being able to move my elbow in a single direction that doesn’t involve smashing my fist against my face. For some reason, I was  _ very _ motivated in  _ not _ face-smashing at such a young age.  _ Hmmm _ , I wonder why?

Therefore, even though I was out of the egg, my mobility was still greatly constrained (baby muscles suck). Constrained as in I can’t even crawl, and only barely capable of rolling around like the bundle of fat that I am. At least there’s always someone(/snake) with me, otherwise I would’ve been bored as hell and no one deserves to see the gimmicks a teenager stuck in a baby’s body can get up to. 

I swear, if I can get my face on you, I will gum on every inch of your head, hair included. Quite sure my da... tou-san found out the hard way, after he tried to cuddle me up to his face and ended up with me latched onto his nose. And bangs. Let’s just say that he screamed and ended up getting sat on by my kaa-san when he tried to run away from his embarrassment. That said, it is  _ not _ normal to start gumming at five months of age. Or growing canines  _ before _ buck teeth for that matter.

How do I know I was five months old? Well, even learning languages can be fun when no other alternate solution to boredom can be found, and perhaps languages really  _ can _ be picked up easily at a young age. Alas, science prevails! It also was an advantage that the man and woman that looked after me would try to teach me simple phrases and stuff, even though I haven’t even reached the one year mark. For some reason, numbers are learned quicker than anything else, possibly because dad always makes a great big fuss when slowly counting up with his fingers in my face. I gummed on those too. Then again, the language spoken here is surprisingly reminiscent of Japanese, something I only recognized through watching anime and the battle movies between China and Japan that my mom used to watch. Right, and karate class where the katas generally had the number of which set it is from which series. I swear, knowledge comes from the weirdest places sometimes.

I only hope that learning this language will be easier than French (confusing chance of that, even though my understanding of the language now is reaching basic, understandable levels), but the possibility isn’t too low. Language was never my forte, and I drop them too quickly. Hopefully the Mandarin that I once knew could aid in my quest to read or write, otherwise I cringe of the kanji that seems to impose itself onto my future. 

No matter how long it takes to learn this language, I can completely believe that the mostly-black haired man and the long, dark-violet haired woman would be with me every step of the way, even if talking or writing are still both inaccessible options at the moment.

It… still hurt a bit to think of the both of them that look after me as my parents though. In my previous life, my parents were my anchors and I, along with my sister, were sometimes theirs, most of the time, my mom’s. They were and always will be a large factor in how I behave and why I do what I do. In some ways, that will never change, even in another lifetime. Perhaps it helped a bit to think of my new parents using the language that is spoken here, but there’s still a scar that still needs scabbing over, and it will probably stick around for the rest of this life.

For some reason, both of my _new_ parents seem to be a bit different from the humans that I was accustomed too. Somehow, their skin is so pale that they resemble an albino Snow White, and their golden eyes (they aren’t werewolves, I think) can be warm as spun sunlight, or sharper than a dissection knife. Kaa-san’s eyes are a shade darker than tou-san’s, but her hair is a lighter shade of violet than tou-san’s black. If deep violet wasn’t strange enough for an actual hair colour though, tou-san has two bangs, just _two_ _golden_ bangs that frame his face. The hair colour is completely natural too, I can vouch for them when I was gnawing on their heads. 

The weirdness doesn’t end there, people would think that  _ nooo,  _ humans can’t be born with natural eye shadow.  _ Well.  _ People, meet my parents, who apparently  _ are  _ born with eye-shadow of unusual colours. Tou-san has a dark gold while kaa-san has a beautiful violet, if  tou-san had a golden coloured snakey companion, I would say that there was a pattern. Alas, nope. Then to top it off, Kaa-san has white scales along the ridges of her finger and tou-san has the same along the outer edge of his forearms. I’m quite sure I have some too, with only a vague suspicion of where they are located.  _ What is my life? _

Then, as the cherry on this sundae of hell, their appearances (and Manda, you  _ can’t _ forget Manda) conjures up images of an evil mad scientist from a series where the final antagonist is an evil bunny goddess from the moon. 

Welp. What are the odds?

Due to some reason, my parents aren’t always around, but they stick around during most of my waking moments, with only a couple hours at most of my conscious periods spent without them. And those was the time frames when I had just woke up, groggy and then proceed to be freshly annoyed by the miniscule cloud of smoke (and fluctuation of energy) that accompanied their arrival. Strangely, there was little or no smoke when my other caretakers appear, even if the _ping_ of energy can be vaguely felt, different as it is. Ignoring the above train of thought, the time spent with my parents was enough for me to know them as two of the _most_ _immature_ adults that I will ever had the pleasure of meeting. Thank god for my kaa-san’s snake, otherwise I’ll probably go bonkers. 

Right, kaa-san has a snake, and it’s curtsy to him that I found out the names of my parents during the first month of my existence. The snake, whose name is Manda as previously mentioned, introduced me to my parents in a rather roundabout way. One can only listen to a single word being thrown around (by a single snake) so much before realizing that it actually was a  _ name _ , even if the language was still unknown. So, apparently my kaa-san’s name is something like Aimamushi, (what a mouthful), then from her constantly laughing at my tou-san, discovered that his name is Mamoru.

Overall, it seems that Manda is constantly exasperated by my parents and honestly, I can’t blame him. 

Random fact about my kaa-san and Manda: they seem to be joined at the hip. Sometimes nearly literally, hence why I determined that Manda is kaa-san’s “pet”. The first time that I saw him (and proceeded to scream my head off), apparently he was lazy and didn’t want to “shrink”, because he can disappear in a poof of smoke and become this violet and black snake about two metres long. Then coiling around my mom and hanging his head off her shoulders. If I dare say so, he is  _ quite  _ adorable when he’s mini sized. But otherwise, he can barely fit in the chamber that I presently live in. 

Apparently I have a pet snake too. I’m quite sure that she is a she (remaining unconfirmed for now as I don’t friggin understand pronouns), but the snake is very tiny, like, can barely wind around my waist tiny, and I’m an  _ enfant _ . As for now, I’ll just dub her as Azure, because  _ of course everything I have is goddamn blue _ , or maybe because her actual name is too off the charts. Like, who names a  _ blue _ snake Dōsukēru? Which means  _ copper _ -scale? Then with my name being Suijami, which is probably something along the lines of water-snake-mi, there is most definitely something wrong with the naming process. Maybe the names were swapped? But then, it will somehow make even less sense. Therefore, my little  _ blue _ companion will be dubbed Azure until further evidence of competent naming can be found.

Just as a side note, I think Azure is very pretty, much prettier than some of the other snakes that check-in on us. Her underbelly is a silver-cream colour and her back consists of a somewhat dark azure colour. Then, her tail has a single band of black that wrapped around in a loop, and somehow entwined before a white tail tip, much better than Manda’s purple interspaced by black bands. But then again, they both have the same coloured green eyes, even if Azure’s are a shade brighter. 

The other snakes though, although there are some beauties here and there, most are rather normal looking, like rat-snakes, or corn snakes from before. And then there are the white ones. Long, sleek, and golden-pupiled, the white ones are all sights to be gawked at (at least, that’s what I did the first time I saw one). They rarely stuck around, and so far I was able to count six, each with a different pattern of coloured markings around their eyes and different degrees of horn-growth. For some reason, they all radiated a sense of power, and the energy seemed to welcome them like a long-lost friend, gathering around the white snakes in an invisible haze. I respected them (somehow), but faced down by their seemingly judgemental stares, I also feared them, as does Azure.

Possibly that’s why I can no longer consider the snakes as “ _ pets _ ”, because they are far too intelligent to be just, you know, pets. Not to mention the fact that pets generally don’t talk, or take care of infants when the parents aren’t around.  _ Yeah, why not give snakes vocal chords too? This place isnt weird enough as is. _

Now might be a good time to mention that other than my parents, pretty much the only interactions that I had with intelligent life was the previously mentioned snakey babysitters. A very random thought connected to this den of snakes that I live in is that honestly, they all smell weird.

* * *

The first few months or so of my life was the time period where I virtually ignored everything (except for Azure, Manda and my parents). I slept in a blue( _ why won’t it leave me alone _ ) crib with Azure wound around my wrist or just resting by my side, occasionally being picked to be fed, played with, carried around, or other baby stuff. Therefore, I will wipe that period of time from my memory, useless and embarrassing recollections are not needed.

Now, seven months after hatching, I was still stuck eating “food” (slime), and Azure, who was swallowing insects such as grasshoppers and crickets in her younger stages, graduated to now feeding on tiny mice, freshly killed with a burst of energy courtesy of my parents. Unlike yours truly, she didn’t need to eat every day and was quite mobile in the crib. If it weren’t for the fact that she was also confined by the same too-high blue walls, I would probably be quite jealous of her “freedom”.Or as jealous as anyone in my position could be, which in reality wasn’t as much as I would’ve thought.

As per usual, human faces or snake heads randomly popped by time-to-time to check on me and my little pal when they think I’m asleep, but most times it’s just my parents and Manda. They would carry us around, of course, but for some reason when they were holding us they never left the chamber, resulting in the two of us only knowing the inside of the room for at least seven months.

The room (snake den) was also amazingly spacious, but the lighting seemed a bit dark considering the fact that there were only a couple snake-like torches that burned with blue(?) fire. The walls were wooden and were a beige-ish brown, carvings out of beautiful coloured minerals and gemstones adorned the ceiling. Three guesses of what they are, the first two don’t count.

The floor also appeared to be made of wood, but of a darker brown and not completely sanded down. This was (unfortunately) discovered through personal experience. At least it wasn’t cement?

What I’m trying to say is this. I’ve been stuck in a room for the seven months of my new life, the room is warm and cozy, there are  _ way _ too many snakes, my parents are weird,  _ I don’t give a shit anymore,  _ and I really _ , really  _ need fresh air _. _

Ask, and it shall be given.

And of  _ course _ Murphy’s third law comes along and  _ effs _ it  _ all  _ up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays Everyone!


	5. I Freak Out (Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto  
> (In which I accidentally uploaded the wrong chapter, sorry!)

“Gah,” I said.

Kaa-san poked me with the butt of a very long sword. Unfortunately, this was a somewhat common occurrence.

Manda slapped his tail over his visage, “accidentally” smacking my tou-san with the tip along the way. “Stop antagonizing your daughter,” he moaned, “she’ll gum on you again.” This, sadly, is also a somewhat common occurrence.

“She can’t bite me if she can’t reach me,” my ever so responsible kaa-san cheerfully retorted, poking me again in the side while ignoring my pitiful attempts to grab the silver-black tassel hanging off the hilt. I swear I will gum on that thing even if it’s the last thing I ever do, revenge should be sweet-tasting, right?

Tou-san rubbed at the side of his head where Manda had swacked and pouted, “Ai-chan, let me teach her some numbers! It’s either that, or the table of elements. It’s been proven that young kids learn the fastest, not to mention this is all crucial knowledge!”

Yeah, tou-san decided to not  _ just _ teach an infant of a grand total of seven months how to count, but also the periodic table,  _ helllloo _ science geeks for parents. This is also the reason why I knew that Dōsukēru was really not aligned with her colour scheme. 

Speaking of  _ Azure,  _ she was coiled around one of my tou-san’s legs.  _ The little traitor... _

I huffed, and somehow managed to roll over on the wooden flooring. Laying on my stomach, I gave my best impression of a glare at my kaa-san. But as the woman that she is, she only cackled. Failing to intimidate her, I levelled my glare (pout) at my tou-san instead. He was too busy trying to find the piece of paper with numbers on it from one of his numerous lab coat pockets to notice. An attempt to glare at Manda would only result in a tail-to-head bop so I turned to my bond-mate instead. Honestly, the term familiar might fit better but such a definition also felt the  _ tiniest _ bit demeaning.

Azure looked over, met my glare with brilliant green eyes, and with no better description, flailed around like a Magikarp on steroids all the while with her jaws unhinged in a silent wail. The larger snake present (as every other snake was absent with only my family being currently present in this wooden den) watched on with a pained expression, before slithering off of my kaa-san’s shoulders and curling around Azure. The contact prompted the tiny blue serpent to freeze, rehinge her jaws and closing it, before she flicked her tongue a bit. Truly, the two of them together are adorable! If only Manda didn’t act like a snobbish asshole half the time...

But that doesn’t solve the problem with my kaa-san poking me with a sword, or the fact that all of their energies just plainly radiated amusement, like a soft muffled chuckle.

It’s been a couple weeks since I first discovered that I could move the energy coursing in my veins, even if the energy in my surroundings seemed to mock my inability to control it. Then there was my presently dubbed sensing abilities. The range of my  “sensing” so to speak only extended up to around four meters with me at the centre of the radius, with the energy inside me being the clearest in my mind’s eye. So far, the energy has helped me roll over occasionally, or keep the barest hint of a grip on Azure’s tail when she tries to slither off because something told me that trying to (and failing to control) too much of the energy would result in a catastrophe. With the help of  _ my _ energy, I can just  _ barely _ push myself onto all fours, but most times would result in faceplanting or falling into a tangle of limbs in my (blue) onesie.

Then all caution goes out of the metaphorical hopefully unlatched window when my kaa-san used strings of blue energy to snatch away the copy of the periodic table that my tou-san had just scrounged up from his pocket. I grumbled,  _ screw immobility and baby muscles, physics don’t matter anyway _ . There’s only hope of actually succeeding in my sworn goal when she’s dealing with tou-san, I applaud his ability as a distraction.

Mustering up the will to move the energy was somewhat easy when frustration gave me badly directed motivation (oops), but accurately imbuing it into the correct muscles was a lot more difficult than I would have assumed, not to mention the energy that resided in the muscles itself was a slap in the face to balance. Through trial and error (that was an exaggeration, three times at most), I finally channeled the energy in such a fashion that my arms and legs were capable of supporting me.  _ Now only a couple more weeks of actual exercise and I’ll be able to crawl...Dammit. _

Grabbing a hold of the tassel in a pudgy baby fist, I stuffed the entire thing into my mouth and chewed.  _ Revenge tastes the sweetest, but maybe with a hint of stringiness. _

Perhaps it said a lot about my spatial awareness that I didn’t notice everyone older than the age of seven months had frozen the second that I began crawling. It said even less when I only noticed my kaa-san had been shaking until Manda left Azure and placed his large purple head her lap.

“It’s time,” the purple serpent rumbled. Hopefully, the only reason he sounded so ominous was due to him, a snake, having vocal chords. Unfortunately, that’s just my wishfulness and not wanting my halcyon days to be over.

* * *

After the rather chilling statement from Manda, my parents bundled me up in a blanket before we left the room. The only reason I knew that I was no longer in the chamber was due to the change in energy as my face was more or less covered by the blanket. (Purposely or not, I shall never know.) Ever thrumming, the faint feeling of tingling present in my limbs announced to me that the friendly presence of the chamber no longer surrounded me.  _ Ha, hello cruel world _ .

Indeed, the new energy was much more  _ wild _ . And cold, a  _ heck _ lot more colder. Even through the fabric, I shivered, resulting in kaa-san holding me closer and Azure trying to snuggle her head into the crook of my neck, even though she was very close to cutting off circulation in my arms.  _ Right, she’s cold blooded.. _ .

“Are you sure she’s ready?” Tou-san whispered harshly, a hint of fear present in his normally jovial voice.

Manda hissed in indignation, “do not doubt me,” then in a more subdued tone, “ even if she’s not, her yin chakra should allow her to survive.”

So, officially commencing freaking out. Apparently I’m about to be tested(?) and the survival rate does  _ not _ look in my favour? Like,  _ what? _ I’m finally starting to crawl, starting over again is not an option! (I think I might be denial. …Who cares?)

And what the shit is it about chakra? If the yoga or meditation is that harsh that a test is required,  _ it’s against the point of being relaxing _ . Gimme a break, infants that have just started crawling should not need to learn to relax. If they do, there is something fundamentally wrong with the world.

_ As if talking snakes and tangible energy wasn’t,  _ muttered a voice in my head. I told the voice to shut up.

After a brief lull of agitated silence, my kaa-san spoke up, albeit a bit shakier. “Suijami will survive, Dōsukēru will too. They’re both strong, even if the war doesn’t end soon, they’ll live.”

Great, the world’s also at war. May the odds be ever in my favour my ass, the odds are trying to choke me to death with two-dimensional die!

A sense of free fall gripped me for a terrifying moment ( _ not again nononoNONO) _ before acceleration turned to rapid deceleration when kaa-san landed with nary a jolt. Huh, I need to learn how to do that someday.

I could feel myself rocked by a walking motion and for a couple seconds that was all I knew, as my mind was still flipping around in my skull along with my brain.

Then an earthshaking bellow, louder than anything I’ve heard so far in this world, and raspy like sandpaper on sandstone, shook everything that encompassed my world.

“These two hatchlings are ready to accept the contract?”

The voice chilled the blood in my veins to a degree as cold as liquified nitrogen and my breath caught in my lungs. Tears streamed out of my eyes with a crying wail (and a desperate urge to face palm at my embarrassing state) and kaa-san efficiently unwrapped me from my bundle with tremoring fingers. Azure, praise her little scaly form, flicked her tongue against my face even though I could feel her miniscule trembling through our contacting skin and scales.

“Silence!” The voice roared. Pressure built around us like a rising storm and my tears stopped as a result of the sense of foreboding possible death. The force persisted for a moment longer where  _ I can’t Breathe _ , before relinquishing its grip. Barely audible was the sound of our breaths returning to normal as fear (and reverence?) prevented the uttering of more sound.

I blinked a few times to clear the tears out of my eyes. Now without the liquid clouding my vision, my sight alighted upon the creature that generated a sense of  _ deathhomeintelligencewisdom _ . For some reason or another, it also felt vaguely amused.

Of course, amusement turned to full-on inward cackling when I screeched in a too-high voice.

This is the first time that I’ve seen a snake bigger than Manda and I refuse to deal with this bullshit anymore.

The girth of the white snake that peered down at me can only be described as colossal. Honestly, I don’t doubt that my entire family (Manda midgetized) can picnic inside the giant serpent’s mouth and still have room to roll around like the idiots we are. The golden eyes were also old beyond measurable, but the similar coloured bands that encircled the snake randomly reminded me of the question of whether the dress was white and gold, or black and blue. In this case, it is most definitely white and gold.

_ What am I thinking now?  _ I questioned my meagre amount of sanity.

Abruptly, I realized that my placement was between my parents and the behemoth.  _ And I thought parents were supposed to protect their young. _

No longer in the right state of mind, I thrashed around in my blanket while disregarding the ongoings around me, including all forms of continued conversation. Therefore I did not notice my kaa-san re-approaching me until she secured my right wrist in a firm grip.

What got my attention for sure, however, was the dagger that she gripped with a white knuckled grip in her right hand. The dagger wasn’t large, width or length wise, but along the hilt were engravings of scales and jeweled snakes, not to mention what appeared to be kanji delicately carved into the blade itself. Ignoring all of the embellishments, the naked blade also looked  _ wickedly sharp _ .

I knew I wasn’t reincarnated into my previous world when I hatched as a human, and the notion was reinforced further by the energy present in everything. My parents constantly messing around with weaponry like it was part of everyday life also became reinforced the idea that all was different in this world. Heck, currently even the existence of giant talking snakes and the mindset of raising a child in the same crib as a snake doesn’t faze me anymore. Now, however? When is my own  _ mother _ coming at me, an  _ infant _ with a ceremonial dagger? This world can only be described as having kicked the bucket of rational sense.

Hence the screaming and struggling to get away. 

Later on, I do not pride myself on making kaa-san’s job harder but right now, how should I have known that all she needed was a couple drops of blood from my thumb?

Whoops.

After much confusion and a prick of pain on my right thumb, I felt a little squeeze on the same finger. A few drops of blood dripped into a saucer that had somehow appeared and I was then put back down, this time into the arms of my tou-san. His grip on me was a bit harder than normal, perhaps it was because I was squirming a lot?

My vision was once again blocked, but this time because I was peering at my father’s pristine lab coat. A poof of energy from six o’clock told me that kaa-san had used her internal energy, or someone else did. Whatever had happened was definitely between her and the Giant White Snake (all capitals deserved), but the exact location and usage was a  _ bit _ out of my range.

Then a voice rumbled, my bones and energy seemingly vibrating with it. 

“With the power I uphold and embody, I hereby bind the daughter of the Kinme clan’s Aimamushi—partner to Manda, and Mamoru—partner to the deceased Takeshi, to the hatchling of the Snake Clan’s Ryuumi—partner to none, and Akakiba—partner to the deceased Akami. From this sunrise on, Suijami shall be bound to Dōsukēru, as was the first summoner of the clan to the first summoned.” 

Perhaps this oath spoken from the greatest of the snakes was the final thread that wove the tapestry of my (un)confirmed future, but from now on I know that even if the world burns around me, if even my  _ parents _ and whoever might’ve stood with me has fallen, my companion, Azure...No,  _ Dōsukēru _ , shall stand with me, her comrade, and above all, her  _ partner _ .

Somehow, that thought was a lot more comforting than I thought it would’ve been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everybody! May 2017 be a fruitful year to all!  
> Come and bug me on my Tumblr if you want, I am active despite what what it might look like.  
> Please drop a kudo or comment on the way out.  
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Firsts, Trolls, and Goals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suijami finally sort of knows what to do with her life. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

Approximately five months after I had finally left  Ryūchi Cave, my family celebrated my first birth-er, hatchday. Among of clan of around a hundred and twenty strong (and close to forty members constantly missing), it was a somewhat monumental occasion. Most people and their partners only showed up with a little trinket, like a tiny scale, polished and with a hole drilled through, or some sort of science demonstration, like the color changing of some crystals after pouring on glowing liquid.

Perhaps it was my own expectations of this world, but with the physics-defying existence of weird energy everywhere, I didn’t think that science and etc. would be such a large part of my daily life. But the fact that the science mainly focused around chemistry, biology, and the study of the weird energy though, it made a twisted sort of sense. Not a lot of my fellow clansmen pursued physics as their subject, but those that did only saw physics as more of a side subject. When chakra can allow people to jump tens of metres high and fall from multiple times the same amount, I honestly cannot say that I’m surprised.

Yes, the energy is chakra and not for yoga or meditative uses. As first discovered when the White Snake Sage allowed me to imprint on the summoning scroll, it was chakra that allowed me to be reverse summoned to the Elemental Nations (and isn’t that a kick in the pants? Who names a continent after elements?). 

Currently November, our clan compound has relocated itself to somewhere along the border of Suna and Ame, the Land of Sand and the Rain respectively. For most of the time I’ve been present in this side of this world, we have stayed along the border of Suna, sometimes straying to a bit closer to the Village Hidden in the Sand or whatever it’s called. When I had just moved over from the summons realm, our clan was positioned along the borders of the Land of Hot Springs and the Land of Fire, gradually making our way back to the Land of Sand. 

Therefore, our clan can be assumed to be a wandering clan, or a nomad clan. 

Unlike most wandering clans or nomads or tribes however, the Kinme clan doesn’t use caravans or wagons to transport our belongings, we use seals. How entire  _ rooms  _ can be fit into a piece of ten cm by ten cm paper, I will never understand. Hence why I had previously stated that in this world, physics is bullshit. If I didn’t state so before, I honestly don’t give a shit because it is true. 

Physics is now effed up, and so are most of the other rules of logic in this crazy, abnormal world.

I clearly recall the first day back in the human realm, after the frightening events with the Giant White Behemoth, my parents, Manda, and I were reverse summoned to the world I currently dwell in. Without Dōsukēru. Funny, Considering the fact that the Sage had literally  _ just _ stated that the two of us  _ are to be bound together for life _ . 

Then when we all reappeared in a circle filled with alchemic-like equations–me half dead from exhaustion that  _ appeared out of freaking nowhere _ , the inclination to cry and scream and  _ rant  _ in baby-tongue was not an action that I was going to deny myself.

So as the smoke from the summoning faded, tiny ol me could be seen/heard screaming myself hoarse and pinker than Patrick the starfish (where the hell did  _ that _ analogy come from?). Sure left a fantastic first impression on my clanmates, didn’t I? 

After a round of congratulations where the crowd crowded, my parents beamed, I screamed, the clan leader came up, said some words, and did some mojo. I utterly and completely ignored it all. Then I was finally taken to my future home, which is honestly just a couple of square-shaped underground rooms connected in obscure and random ways.

The next few months of my life mainly rotated throughout my underground-bunker of a home, where there are at least ten rooms and two stairwells. Maybe it makes sticking our entire residence in seals easier, but all of the rooms are exactly 4x4x3 metres. Including the stairwells…

After watching my parents (and occasionally Manda) stuff our bunker into seals room by room for the past five months, I came to the conclusion that the little niche in each ceiling corner of each room is a place where the tiny slip of paper is placed, and that the tiny slip of paper will  _ replace _ the room with dirt and whatever was originally in the space by pulsing chakra into it from the room next over. Maybe through the wall, maybe with chakra threads if my kaa-san felt like showing off. So far, I had never seen them put a room in, perhaps due to me generally above ground when they do so, but also perhaps due to the ground being “unstable” during the “construction”.

Well. The constant moving of our clan  _ probably _ isn’t all that pleasant for the surrounding vegetation, considering the fact that the unsealing of each room displaces quite a lot of underground space, thus damaging plenty of roots. Hopefully in whatever dimension the room or displaced ground stuff is stored, oxygen and water exists, or time is paused, otherwise the underground critters will also be rather disheartened.

Anyways, back to the topic. My hatchday was celebrated aboveground, in a large stone pagoda-lookalike that was carved full of seals and sitting(sinking) into the sand of the Wind Country.. For a bunch of scientists, my clan sure knows how to party. 

Honestly, I’m surrounded by snake-loving nerds.

An interesting result of so many life forms gathering together was that the energy was incredibly excited. In fact, it was practically tangible, if not already visible. I hope that it’s just a side effect of so many in the same place or just showing off, but surrounding everyone was an aura. Snakes included.

Somehow everyone was perfectly fine with so many reptiles in the same place, and most of them being over three metres long. A sizable amount of the smaller snakes chose to hang around the necks and shoulders of their partners, but the rest of them were lounging or twisting about on the ground, skillfully avoiding all the feet that were careless in their path (not like there were many). In the end, no matter where I looked were slitted pupils, most being surrounded by an iris of molten gold while the rest were encased in a rainbow of hues.  _ Ha, goodbye normal  _ human _ eye colouring, from now on gold is the new brown/blue/green/whatever. _

Off topic again, whoops. I didn’t get to do much during the party, only being able to crawl and all, but the cake was amazing and gigantic. That’s what happens when the entire present clan gets invited, I suppose.

That was probably one of the highlights of the party, my parents trying to get me to blow out the single candle at the pinnacle of the two foot tall cake.

So there I was, a year-old kid held out in front of my kaa-san like a water hose, and her trying to make me exhale a gust large enough to extinguish the lone candle.

“Blow, little Sui-chan, blow like the wind!”

“Don’t listen to your kaa-chan,” my tou-san whined, “you have nothing to do with the wind.”

_ Don’t we live in Wind Country right now? _

One of the people beside my folks laughed, “ya two are gonna raise yer little serpent as biased as you are?”

My kaa-san grumbled at that while my tou-san just laughed sheepishly.

Coiled around my kaa-san’s shoulders, Manda let out a sigh and slithered up her arm. Currently as thick as an adult human’s arm, 

Manda stuck his tongue in the little curve in my neck.

Out goes the candle, laughter  _ is  _ power after all (not to mention somewhat stifled screaming).

Then out from absolutely nowhere (probably seals, it’s always seals), the entire clan (minus those six and younger) whipped out the largest assortment of instruments that I have ever seen.

From kotoes, to guitars, to shakuhachis, to who knows what else, everyone started playing on the unanimous count of three. To no beat at all, and some tone deaf ears. The hatchday song was an absolute  _ failure _ . But even then, I wouldn’t have it changed for anything in the world.

Of course, now I finally know that the person who was playing the flute during my egg days was my kaa-san, while the one with the weird string thing (* _ coughkotocough* _ ) was my tou-san. One mystery down, a couple (hundred) more to go!

Once the partying was all over, I was once again brought over to an elaborate seal drawn into a large scroll. As a side note, the scroll was in a higher level of the pagoda, far away from the other party-going nerds on floor number one.

Once again, I was approached by a parent holding a very pointy weapon (whelp).

Once again, my thumb was pricked for a smear of blood over the seal (that was absorbed).

Once again, a puff of smoke engulfed those present (my lungs hate you all).

Unlike the once before, the smoke dissipated to show that we weren’t summoned to another world, and that something was summoned here.

“Welcome to the Elemental Nations, Dōsukēru.”

I squealed and crawled at top speed (half a meter per second) to my reptilian partner, ignoring all the formal shit that was going on around me. Dōsukēru kept up the formalities for approximately two seconds more before hissing out a  _ laugh _ and slithering over to me.

“Suijami!”  _ How the heck can Dōsukēru speak already? _

I proceeded to stare at her and arch a black eyebrow, even if she can speak, how the hell does she expect me, a  _ one-year old _ as of today, be capable of doing so too?

Actually, never mind. Logic lost meaning the instant that I hatched. At least her pronunciation isn’t perfect yet, otherwise I would be rather depressed.

After the five months that we had spent apart, Dōsukēru had grown quite a lot. Instead of the tiny perhaps foot long little snake that I recalled her being, my little blue serpent is now around three times that length. Talk about a growth spurt. If this keeps up, I wouldn’t be surprised if she grows larger than the Sage by the time we hit our teens!

After many wordless babbles on my part and lots of nuzzling from her, our reunion came to an end and my fatigue caught up to me. Even though I have (finally) reached the one year mark, my stamina hasn’t improved much and I can still only stay awake for the lesser part of the waking day. Meaning: I can only stay awake for a bit over nine hours. At least my beauty sleep meant that I was still as pale as the day I was born?

* * *

Now currently a year and four to five months old, I have finally decided that it was safe to try out my first word, or words. During the previous couple months, Dōsukēru would try to refine her vocabulary and grammar while also trying to get me to speak. Speak I did, but in English. Then due to her young age, she also picked up a couple words, and thank kami she didn’t respond to it in a way that would make adults suspicious. Instead, we would sort of chat in what my parents have dubbed “baby-speak”.

It made communication easier for me, and also allowed for me to tell Suijami in fragmented tidbits that I was alive a long time ago in a different world. I don’t think she understood, considering that she was still young, but it got some of the pressure off of my chest just by sharing it with my future lifelong partner. If we can’t fulfill the most basic of requirements of a partnership, wouldn’t so much that was already done become pointless?

Anyways, first words.

Not knowing much of what is to come (the hell is this world anyway?), I have determined one of my life goals to be the largest troll ever (in this world at least). Perhaps later on I’ll mess with little brats by using insane (or inane) teaching methods? Bwahaha, beware the trolliness of a reincarnated soul!

Ahem. So. Us being in the mess hall of our clan is a good advantage for my planned prank, and knowing that my parents (and others) have been competing to make their title the first words out of yours truly here.

However, Manda, the amazing grumpy head that he is, did not participate. Probably because he respected my parents (or at least my kaa-san) enough to not steal their joy in this scenario. Too bad, I’m chucking him under the metaphorical bus that doesn’t exist in this world.

Since our entire clan is made up of scientists (* _ coughnerdscough _ *), most of our clansmen would forget to eat or sleep if not prompted. Hence why one of our previous respected clan leaders decided that everyone would eat together, in a mess hall set up aboveground. Mess hall is a generous term, considering the fact that it’s just an enormous tent-like structure that can fit our entire clan. The gathering in a mess hall for our meals is also in advantage in that it allows the lab potatoes to communicate “scientific discoveries” (gossip like old ladies) and make sure nobody died, not to mention that only a handful of clan members can actually cook, my parents sadly not among them.

Maybe when I’m old enough, I’ll bring to them the joy of chocolate chip cookies, or brownies. Or just try to recreate the scrumptious baked goods that my younger sister would bestow upon our family. If,  _ if _ , I didn’t blow up the kitchen, or set it on fire, the latter of which nearly happened at least three times. Long story short, I shall kindly, but firmly, refuse to cook/bake/make edible stuff without responsible supervision.

Whoops.

Being an infant has its advantages, one of which being that I’m constantly protected, or supervised. Now in the centre of the mess hall with another toddler and surrounded on all sides by adults and snakes, I can feel the perfect time for the prank drawing near.

Being a clan of scientists, everyone departs the mess hall at almost exactly seven o’clock (to continue experiments and stuff) while the unfortunate last three people remaining are left with the chore of cleaning up, i.e. resealing the tent and everything inside to be put away into the clan leader’s bunker. Now with only five to ten minutes remaining before the designated “end of supper”, everybody was preparing to vanish (I kid you not, they seem to vanish into thin air sometimes) so conversation was beginning to wind down, not to mention that my parents and Manda were slowly making their way back to me.

Dōsukēru flicked her tongue above my left eye, as was the signal of our caretakers approach, and I immediately responded with blabbering in actual baby-talk.

As expectedly, kaa-san bent down and cooed in my face, squishing my cheeks. “Say kaa-chan! Kaaaa-chan!” Manda shook his head from his position across kaa-san’s shoulders, more that a bit exasperated.

Tou-san was barely a step behind, but he stayed behind kaa-san and mouthed at me “ _ say tou-chan,  _ tou-chan  _ is muuch better.” _

Yeah… they were a  _ tiny _ bit competitive.

And I’m going to disappoint them both.

“Maaa-” I gurgled, my parents looked a bit disappointed but Manda and his sixth serpent sense or something could clearly sense the foreboding doom. The large purple serpent began to slowly inch away, only to freeze when kaa-san quirked an eyebrow at him.

I gave a little cough, which would’ve seemed like me clearing my throat if I wasn’t an infant.

“Manda-tama!” I screeched with all the verbal power a midget like me possessed, and I was not let down by my vocal chords (I will wish for cherry flavored Halls later). My Baby-Screech rang out clearly against the receding din of the mess hall, eliciting a silence from everyone near. I love our tight-knit clan, I really do, and so did they. But even with our love of snakes and remaining time of six or so minutes before “curfew”, nobody remained to save poor Manda- _ tama _ from my kaa-san’s slowly growing aura of death. Tou-san looked just as murderous, but  _ nobody _ was going to stand in my kaa-san’s warpath of fury.

To this day, I am not ashamed to say that I cackled like an old madman and his cat when kaa-san  _ roared _ at “lil’” Manda to return to her my first words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is when one witnesses how these chapters keep on goddamn growing. Please leave a kudo or comment! (Comments are love, really! Even if they only tell me how to improve, as long as its not a flame, lol)


	7. Goodbye Sane Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Suijami teaches swear words (accidentally), finds a mirror,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto  
> Warnings: a bit of panicking, maybe swearing? Scars on a summon, and immatureness.

Thankfully, Manda didn’t end up as a snake-skin bag. He deserves better. Even though he still acts somewhat like an asshole. But still, whenever he looks at me, there may or may not be a glimmer of protectiveness in those green orbs, or at least a bit more than before the incident. Or perhaps I’m just being as wishful as always. My parents also got off of Manda’s tail when they heard me call them out two days later, earning me a lot of cooing and hugging. If I think about it now, It’s a bit strange. I used to hate hugs before  _ It _ but now, not so much? I think? Or perhaps it’s only because of them being my parents? But that should’ve meant that I would’ve shied away from my pyromaniac aunt (oba-san) and her demon toddler… Well, I definitely ran (crawled as fast as possible) from her kid, but my aunt was ok.

I think I’ll just blame brain structure, hormones, and an infant’s need for social contact.

Thankfully I became capable of standing up a month after first messing with Manda (if you don’t count being baby-burped onto his head) and walking on stumbling legs two days later. Once I started running, Hikaru had never caught me again (cue evil laughter). For a boy who was named after “light” or something, he isn’t a very bright toddle. Maybe that’s just me being biased, but the three year old child really doesn’t incorporate logic into his life. At the very least, his brown-black hair is very very fluffy and his partner Kuroryuu (black dragon or something, why does everyone else get normal names?) is a gentlesnake?

Life hasn’t changed from its strangeness even a bit ever since I was born. Every time I round a corner of life’s extremely heavy milestone, it seems as if someone chucked an iron soccer ball into my face, completely and utterly unavoidable. Case in point: when I stood up on shaking legs for the first time without support, my parents (and Manda) celebrated, like normal people. Then they decided that it would be a good idea to hand me a wooden dagger with a ring on its end,  _ un _ like normal people, proceeding with showing me how to throw it properly, like crazy people. At least I potty trained myself right after the crazy? Diapers were the bane of my  _ life _ .

Anyways, praise the world for the existence of Dōsukēru, otherwise I would go rather insane. Despite her being able to speak first, she’s a damn better listener than anyone else that I’ve ever known, choosing to listen to me as I blabber in English and only occasionally attempting to answer back in the same language. Unfortunately, she fails a bit more than not and Manda always appear a bit disgruntled when we blabber in his presence. For some strange and obscure reason that probably relates to “ _ for Science”,  _ My tou-san actually encourages my blabbering while kaa-san just watches on with what resembles a facepalm, without the face in the palm. I think my tou-san is one of the few people that actually believes that baby talk is a language only understood by infants, before being replaced by whatever tongue is spoken by the people around them.

That being said, it was downright creepy when my tou-san butted into my conversation with my lovely partner. It probably went something like this:

_ ‘Why father stare at us again?’ _ mumbled yours truly, just a tad creeped by the fashion that he glances (and forgets to turn back) at us every few seconds. My grammer being largely zero due to the need for Dōsukēru to understand the vocab first.

_ ‘Stare? _ ’ She parroted back with a tilted head, the same response every time to an unknown word that she wants to learn.

‘ _ Look for long time, strong intent, _ ’ I gurgled back, vocal chords still in the stages of development.

“ _ Intent? _ ’

‘ _Feel purpose, here meaning focus,_ ’ thankfully she understood the phrase “ _here_ _meaning-”_ blah blah blah, otherwise the context part of vocabulary would go horribly wrong. 

This was where my tou-san decided that  _ hey, why not try to baby blabber and scare the living daylights out of my daughter in the middle of my lab? _

Yes, I was in his lab, and no, that wasn’t the point. The point was that he walked away from the rotating and sealable lab table  _ le gasp! _ and knelt down next to me, then in a perfectly serious manner, said to me “‘father stare meaning focus’”. Of course, his accent was horrendous, but the grammar was somewhat understandable and by my hook or by crook (whatever the saying is), he managed to use words to get words across.

I will be the first to admit that I’m not a very emotional person (or so I think, Dōsukēru laughs at me whenever I state that in English) but I did  _ not _ assume that my baby hormones would get the best of me, resulting in me getting up, picking up Dōsukēru and settling her around my shoulders, and run off crying.

Somehow I ended up in my own rectangular prismed room and sat down on my raised futon, before tilting ( _ coughfallingcough _ ) over and curling into a ball.

Now that I think back on it, I think kaa-san ended up yelling at tou-san after she poked her head out of the washroom, berating him for making me cry when all she wanted was to take a shower. How us underground folks take a shower, I’ll probably never know, but it’s probably seals or chakra, logic hasn’t applied to those in a while. Hello scatterbrained-ness, haven’t seen you in a while, eh?

Anyways, at least that was the best of tou-san trying to mimic my words. The  _ rest _ of the time consisted of him actually making up words that I don’t even consider real, something that will get me to laugh for years to come. Occasionally though, I would repeat random swear words with Dōsukēru repeating after me. Being a troll meant that I have solemnly swore that I was not good a looong ass time ago, and therefore I had indirectly taught my tou-san how to swear in English. He’ll never know, right?

_ Ahem _ . Another random milestone was that Dōsukēru shedded for the first time since I’ve seen her. That was a rather private but still celebrated occasion, with Manda literally bouncing off the walls and tou-san being drunk. 

I suppose the snakes celebrated the shedding of skins instead of hatchdays? It would make sense with how grumpy Manda was so enthusiastic. From most point of views, it somewhat seems like Manda had stuck himself in a fatherly role to Dōsukēru, or at least a very neglectant uncle…

* * *

I recall acutely the first time I had seen myself in a mirror. Granted, this is random, but having your parents pounding a mirror into the training room wall can be sort of jarring. Who attaches a training room to the bathroom anyway? If anything, attach it to the dining room slash living room so that there’s a place to chill after training, like oba-san’s. Even if I’m still a not-yet two year old toddler. Screw this life, it ain’t making no sense no more.

So, first time seeing myself in a mirror. 

It was certainly a blow in regards to how far I’ve already left behind my first life. A small pointed nose, pudgy cheeks, and  _ fangs _ of all things stuck out as somewhat  _ normal _ characteristics in comparison to the pale-as-death porcelain-like skin the features were contained on. What probably stood out the most was the goddamn  _ blue _ markings around my eyes and the eyes themselves. Genetic proves strong in me, as two glowing lamps of molten gold slitted by a sliver of black (the lights were very bright) gave the me in the mirror a lifted brow. 

The midget in the mirror repeated the action.

The strange thing though, was how my eyes and eyebrows were the exact same as those of my last life. Asian, monolid eyes were similar enough to my parents of this world to not deny the resemblance, but anyone who knew me from before would be able to tell through the eyes. However, if closely looked at, they were rather unique in this world where facial features can be identified as those that can nearly align with those in a comic or manga. My eyebrows though… Still a weirdass pointed thing that was randomly thick at the start before angling and tapering off at the end. Much too masculine for my face, but I’ve honestly never really cared. That said, it’s still a weirdass trait that confused most people I know nowadays as none of my present parents have anything that even  _ vaguely _ resembles a pointy eyebrow.

Of course, my hair decides to imitates tou-san’s with a random streak of blue smudged among the black of my future bangs. Genetics are weird here, have I mentioned that yet?

With appearances out of the way, it was just a  _ tiny bit  _ scary how many of my original features, physical or spiritual, or just plain habits, that I retained from Before.

Not delving into too many details at the moment, but it surprised Manda when I ran around on the tips of my toes. I think my habit of apologizing and thanking people people too much/repeatedly also confuse the heck out of my parents. Once a Canadian, always a Canadian, I suppose. Now, all I need is hockey (although I’m not much of a fan,  _ le gasp! _ ) and some Tim Hortons to complete the set... Of course, scatterbrained-ness (and tardiness) were also some of the traits I had before, but only fully realized in the body of Suijami the toddler.

Basically, the me from Before wasn’t as gone as I had first assumed, a fact that’s both good and bad because the past will never just stay in the past. Me blabbering my heart out to Dōsukēru had proven such.

* * *

During the month after my second hatchday (still not used to this..), my parents seemed especially agitated for some unapparent reason. Manda was cool as a cucumber though, but only on the outside, it might not have been so obvious if for the fact that he was losing scales all over the compound…

I love my family now, I really do, but a toddler can only cheer people up so much. Welp, trying is caring?

“Up.” I jutted out my bottom lip at my tou-san, who was (once again) sitting at his lab desk and frantically scribbling while muttering under his breath and poking at unidentifiable objects contained in jars. I avoided looking at the jar that had a twitching salamander tail twitching within. I understand that he’s a biologist/chakra-ist/ something or another, but the fact that most reptilian tails look similar didn’t sit well with me, surplus when I have a blue snake coiled around my neck. 

Despite his rather harried appearance, tou-san didn’t deny my request.

He grunted when he lifted me up to sit on his lap, the white lab coat with too many pockets made a rustling and a  _ clinking( _ ?) sound as I made myself comfortable, “you’re getting heavy, Sui-chan,” he huffed in a fake mocking tone. 

Even if I’m only a toddler in body, I  _ am _ still a teenager in mind. A teenage girl that does  _ not _ appreciate her weight mocked by others, unless the others are her parents. In this case, he is. But however, he is a male and so i shall not be tolerated.

“Tou-chan mean!!!” I wailed. Yes, I will certainly extort all of my toddlerness for all its worth while still in this age period. Proceeding with bopping him on the head a couple of times, I turned and leaned back against his chest, his lower-than-normal-human body temperature still being the perfect furnace for me. I don’t care if everyone in our clan is rather – _ cold-blooded _ , because it  _ is _ rather literal. 

Not just our body temperature is lower than a normal human’s (and wasn’t that a surprise), but it’s even hard for us to keep our body temperature stable, perhaps our people are more snake-like than I had previously thought, even more than when my kaa-san was stretching and bent two right angles in her spine. In  _ opposite _ directions. Anyways, a multitude of air vents and  _ seals _ are used to keep our compound at a constant warmth. Air vents for circulation, and seals to adjust the temperature of the air at the entranceway of each vent.

A sudden shift reminded me of my position upon my tou-san’s lap and I looked up at him, before beaming at him with my full set of teeth. Good grief, teething was a pain, at least it’s over now. But I want to eat steak  _ dammit _ .

“Is little Sui-chan still mad at tou-chan?” He questioned.

I pretended to give it some thought, and my not-so tiny partner lifted her head off my collarbone to look at the male half of my pair of parents.“Maybe if you read us a story about the snake who swallowed the sun, we would not be mad at you anymore.” Dōsukēru punctured her sentence with a dip of her head and flicked her tongue.

My tou-san chuckled sadly, “perhaps another time little blue, I’m approaching a breakthrough on regenerative abilities…”

“Why tou-chan so tired and fu-aus-twa-twed?”  _ I hate my tongue and its stupid pronunciation. _

He looked away, and I could practically imagine sweat dripping off of his face like a very selective waterfall.

“Ummm…” I both employed our trump card. 

“Tell meh!” I never said I was mature, did I?

“Well…” _ goddammit tou-san, stop stalling! _

“Whatdoyouthinkofasibling?” What. 

Apparently my dear tou-chan decided that I wasn’t able to interpret his incredibly garbled words and repeated for the benefit of what might’ve been a toddler’s. So taking a huge breath to calm himself, he said (albeit a bit shakily): “Sui-chan, what do you think of a sibling?”

* * *

Around a month after my second hatchday, my kaa-chan vanished to the Cave of the Great White Snake Sage. Unlike her “business trips”, she did not come back after a couple days, or even a couple weeks. Instead, the rest of our misfit family went to the summons realm to retrieve her, and admire the egg that was layed not even an hour prior five months after it was announced to me that I was going to gain a sibling.

Thankfully, we were allowed to visit her while she stuck around in the summons world with Manda and every other unsummoned snake, but every time we reverse-summoned ourselves, I ended up a little pile of spazzing goo on the cave floor because I had to supply the chakra necessary for both Dōsukēru and myself. (And because I refuse to be left behind, only being two years old be damned.) No matter how much of the nature chakra stuff is filtered out by moi to keep Dōsukēru in our realm, it did not substitute for the amount of  _ my _ chakra needed for reverse summonings. Unfortunate, considering the fact that Dōsukēru just  _ wouldn’t. Stop. GROWING. _ Trust me when I say that it’s difficult to summon a meter long snake that has a chakra system complete with all tenketsu points and enough intelligence to rival a ten year old human. 

Back to the topic. The visits to kaa-chan while she bunked in the Snake’s Cave was semi-weekly, with each visit being around eight to ten hours. We weren’t allowed any more time due to our being part of a nomad tribe, and being left behind is not something our clan will allow. After all, snakes of a scale, slither synchronal. Or something. Point is, I watched my kaa-chan’s stomach grow bit by bit over the period of time, and was finally able to converse with some of my childhood caretakers. Manda was extremely protective of laa-chan during the five months, and wouldn’t leave her side at all. Since we didn’t reside in the nursery(where I spent the first couple months outside of an egg shell), I was able to see a bit more of Ryūchi cave and the area outside nestled in tou-chan’s arms.

The cave is big, much larger than the nursery behind the throne the White Snake Sage resided on. Multiple tunnels branched out of the main chamber where the Sage rested, and one of the main tunnels lead to an enormous hall, the entrance hall so to speak. The ceiling was open to the sky, and if our trip there was late in the day, we can see the stars peeking over the edge. There wasn’t enough time to confirm if the constellations were of the human realm or not (the multiverse theorem seems more and more likely by the minute), and I blame our need for a constant body temperature. Although it seemed that tou-chan and kaa-chan could keep themselves warmer, it helped to watch the stars a while longer then what I could on my own though. 

I remember running off once while my parents and Manda was occupied with a game of “ _ guessing the hatchling’s gender and element _ ” and stumbling into the lair of an old snake, partially hidden by the outcropping he lay under.

“Who may you be, human child?” He rasped, a pink tongue flicking in and out of his car-sized head. 

“Suijami,” I replied, “and this is my fwiend, Dōsukēwu.”

“One of our clan’s summoners, I presume?” A harsh chuckle, “Maybe you won’t die early like everyone else.” Only when he tilted his head and emerged from the shadow did I realize that scars crisscrossed his burn-red coloured skull. Like a map of cruelty, each scar spoke a story, but none more than the two jagged bolts over what used to be his eyes.

Predictably, I screamed, so did Dōsukēru (and wasn’t that weird?). Then we ran/slithered off and proceeded to get lost before Manda came to lead us back.

Impromptu adventure aside, the five months passed smoothly. 

After kaa-san returned, we still made frequent trips back to the summons realm, and now because I had more chakra, they were every second day. 

Like a real snake egg, the egg that encapsulated my future sibling grew with the passage of time, something that made only a modicum of sense as the shell was a blend of calcium carbonate (normal egg shell stuff) and chakra. Chakra of the fetal, probably, as the shell was a violet lit with dimly pulsing webs of dark purple. 

It was one of the days where I was just listening to my kaa-san play her flute to the violet egg that it happened. 

The chakra inside stilled, and burst like a coiled snake bursting into action. Our entire family watched on intently and sure enough, two nerve wracking hours later, I gained a little brother, and Dōsukēru gained one also.

“As per clan tradition,” my tou-chan exclaimed, grinning widely from ear to ear, “the progenitor of the human child shall name the new hatchling of the Snake clan.” He turned to the violet coloured little serpent that had just emerged from the smaller egg next to my brother’s. 

Kaa-chan bopped tou-san on the head with her flute, and with a muttered sentence that sounded along the lines of “You named Dōsukēru, I will name this hatchling.”, she cradled the newly hatched snake to her chest and proclaimed, “From today on, you shall be named Sugiryuu.”

Now with only Manda left to speak, he slithered up to the non-existent spotlight and cleared his throat. “As per clan tradition, the partner of the human hatchling’s progenitor shall name the new child of the Kinme clan.” Lowering his head, Manda gently nuzzled the bare black fuzz that covered my brother’s head. “From today on, you shall be named Orochimaru.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh, leave a comment? They're love!  
> Bug me on my tumblr too, if there are questions to be asked, everyone's welcome!


	8. Nomads and Ninjas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which revelations happen, weapons are earned (sort of), and life happens. With panicking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto  
> Warnings: swearing, perhaps angst, I think that's it?

It’s been two weeks since the hatching of my dear little  _ otouto _ (and doesn’t  _ him being Orochimaru _ take things into perspective?) and therefore two months since a paradigm shift decided to drop me on my head and squeeze out the remaining brain cells that I have. To top it off, it’s basically also two months since I’ve been stuck in denial (sort of).

Ignoring how my little brother could grow up into a mass-murdering traitor that experimented on (and killed) children, he would grow up to be one of the strongest shinobis in this world of killers.

No matter how much he’ll be respected, or feared, or even that he eventually created a village ( _ a home _ ) for multitudes of others, no matter how he’ll become revered as a Sannin, a ninja that rose to fame alongside the granddaughter of the Shodai Hokage and the Toad Sage.

It doesn’t even  _ matter _ that he’ll be the first (mostly) human to achieve immortality, a feat that a fellow snake-faced man from a world of magic died trying to attain. (Granted, you either achieve immortality or die trying, but, details can be ignored.)

Either way, my newly-hatched sibling will be one of the few to go down in  _ ninja _ history, and become one of the even fewer that can write their own.

As his older sister, that’s not something I wanted for him. Writing one’s history is fun and all, but being branded as a traitor, having his world shattered over and over and over again by those closest to him is not needed.

In this world of backstabbing and ninjas and chakra and war, it doesn’t matter what Kishimoto drew ( _ created _ ) but as much as he portrayed this world as a place where friendships and bonds and  _ family _ (and isn’t that ironic?) triumphs above all, it is not. This is a world where four-year old Kakashi (an orphan) became a genin ( _ a killer a murderer a  weapon) _ , where an entire nation was destroyed in a war, both physically erased _ (and erased from the memories of the people) _ , where children were shunned for the burdens they bore ( _ when they were holding back earth-shattering demons with cages of flesh and blood and lines of ink _ ).

This is the legacy of the Elemental Nations, and my clan will not be one of the ones that survive.

I should’ve known the second that I realized that Manda is the violet behemoth Manda, favoured summon of Orochimaru, the Snake Sannin, I should’ve known after looking in the mirror and in the faces of all the Kinmes that srrounded me, saw the markings and realized,  _ oh, _ should’ve realized that the map  _ can’t lie, _ and that the island that our clan migrates to at the beginning 

of the season of falling leaves is Uzu-bloody-shio, with all their Uzumaki and fuinjutsu and hair redder than blood.

Now that all the signs (and my little bro who’s smacking my face with a drool smeared hand) propels my thoughts in such a direction, I can only think the same thing that has been rocketing through my brain for the past two weeks.

_ Fuckin’ crap-buckets, I’m in a world of magic ninja bullshit. _

* * *

Presently being almost the middle of November, our clan was well on its long trek back to Suna from the Island of Uzushio, with occasional stops between here and there, some small, some large, and some… just a random clearing in the middle of a rainforest that can fit our clan. Our present location put us on a merchant path in the jungle in the direction of the mining town of Katabami, having left the artisan village, Takumi village, a day ago. Personally, Uzushio and Takumi village are the two favourite stops that our clan makes, everywhere else had climate that irritated my skin, or was either too hot, or too cold. Suna was fine during the winter, if you ignored the fact that the nights are freezing, there’s barely any water, and  _ oh kami _ how could sand get into places that don’t exist?

Anyways, now with eyes open larger then before, little details that used to make no sense became crystal clear. Such as the fact that half the time we travel by snake-back, the other half by foot, and both of them just  _ that much _ faster than a normal human’s speed walking. Even though some of our clansmen had to pull along a couple wagons since horses and our snakes don’t mix. At all. This, I speak from personal experience. 

(Manda  _ may _ have “accidentally” scared a poor traveler’s horse shit-less somewhere in Rice country. I don’t get how, he was just smiling? I think?)

Speaking of the giant venomous python/boa serpent, he was slithering on the well-sorn merchant’s trail beside my kaa-san and I, while tou-chan was somewhere in the Snake’s realm. He was reverse summoned there by the snakes using a vial of his blood kept in the summoning realm especially for that purpose, while standing in an intricate seal that our ancestors had haggled off of the fox summons. All of us had some blood stored there apparently (so getting poked with needles nowadays is normal), even if we can only get through via a combination of the blood, chakra of the summoned, and the aforementioned seal. For now though, it’s so that little Orochi who needed to be able to crawl before being allowed out into our world could have some company other than the scale-clad partners of our clan. 

On the topic of the dreaded needles, I’ve become long since accustomed to them. Our status as a nomad clan means that we would have to travel through a myriad of terrains, and meet a hell lot of people with different immunities. Hence, our resident poison masters* _ cough _ * did I say poison? I mean  _ medically-inclined _ researchers, would identify, dissect, and immunize all diseases that we haven’t yet come into contact with. If H1N1 was horrifying, try scale rot, or a chakra-bullshit version of whooping cough. Not fun, not fun at all.

Then somehow, it all equals locals missing a few pints of blood but somehow gaining some new tech.  _ Hmm, I wonder. _

Back to the present, these days, I just sort of stumble along holding my kaa-chan’s hand, and try to keep up with the line of Kinmes. Dōsukēru, the lucky thing, got to ride on my shoulders, because the foliage “prevents her from following at a decent speed”. That’s bull, I’ve seen her escape faster than  _ me _ when Manda’s threatening to eat us. In the middle of  _ Fire country _ .

Anyhow, at the head of the line was our clan head with her long, pale-green  _ flying _ boa trailing in the air behind her. According to tou-san’s stories, our esteemed Hebi-hime was so old that no one remembers her name, or those of her partner.  _ I _ think it’s because she had a parent that had a snake partner with no naming sense. Sort of like my drunk dad. Then to match, her partner is dubbed the Ryuujin, the dragon king. At least he flies?

The point is, over a quarter of the year our clan is on the move, a long line of humans, snakes, and wagons. To sometimes hide our identities when passing through non-Kinme friendly territory, kaa-san would paint my face, and hers and tou-san’s with make-up to obscure our pale skin and clan markings. All of the serpents would hide under the swishy folds of our kimono, where they could choose to poke their heads out from within the sleeves if they wished.

The first time I was stuffed into a traveling kimono for hiding purposes, I nearly squealed when Dōsukēru moved under the fabric. Granted there was a shirt/tunic thing, but by  _ kamis  _ it tickled! But tickleness aside, it was worth it, seeing our entire clan with skin tones of varying colours instead of the unnatural whiteness we were known for. If it wasn’t for the scattered handful of non-Kinme members that married into our clan, I wouldn’t have known that “normal” humans with “normal” skin tones and temperatures existed until I was allowed to walk into towns.

That said, I’m rather proud of my clan for being logical ninjas that realized the risks of  _ inbreeding _ , unlike some of the other clans present in this world, or at least not to the same extent. Pretty sure my parents would’ve told me if I had any other living relatives other than my rather… destructive katon-loving aunt. And her son. Not to mention their partners. You know what? Never mind.

* * *

Usually, we can make it to our next stop within three days on foot, considering the vast amounts of possible places that our clan can root down on, but this time we were delayed due to a torrential downpour a day's journey away from Takumi village. So camping out in the abnormally tall trees during night-time we go.

Flickers of light and bickering throughout the dark canopy accompanied the activation of barriers while faint flutters of chakra (little pinpricks that light up and die out like pissed off fireflies) revealed four-cornered hammocks. Off to the side somewhere, I could faintly hear my aunt yelling that the rain could piss off and destroy someone else’s hair style. 

“And up you go.” Kaa-chan grunted, hefting me up from under my armpits before chucking Dōsukēru and I somehow up to my tou-chan’s waiting arms in the hammock, despite me not even knowing he was back. Depending on if she was in a show-off mood or not, my kaa-chan would sometimes choose to use her chakra strings and weave me a net that would be pulled up to our hammock. A second after tou-chan settled me down on his lap, our hammock bounced again as kaa-chan hopped over five meters up to sit on the three by three meter piece of cloth. How chakra can get humans to break physics, I will never know.

“When did tou-chan be back?” 

I didn’t even notice the man reappearing.

“Your lazy tou-chan,” here my kaa-chan reached over and pinched the man in question, eliciting a feigned wince, “came back a minute ago, just after your poor kaa-chan finished preparing our stay for the night.”

Well, at least that’s one question answered.

I couldn’t see that well in the dark canopy yet, but my senses told me that a multitude of chakra was hanging around in the trees with us, like giant humanoid lanterns. Then with another burst, these chakras would become muted, as if they were blocked from my senses, barely there, but sensible like an afterimage out of the corner of your eye.

Speaking of, Manda reached over with his tail and flicked out a seal from the violet-rimmed eyed woman, before pulsing chakra into it that muffled off even more of the outside world.

That said, I couldn’t even sense that far before, only a seven meter radius sphere or so. From this it can be deduced that our entire clan is rather squashed in this copse of trees. Sticking together I suppose? And all the barrier spheres do help keep the rain out, not to mention allow us who don’t want to get wet travel to another hanging piece of cloth.

You know what? My clan is batshit insane, and so are the Uzumakis for trading seals and tech with us.

That however, didn’t deter me from falling asleep sandwiched between my parents and two snakes, lulled to dreamland by the soothing waves of chakra emitted by clan and the barely audible sound of rain peppering the barrier.

Unfortunately, that was not to be, as eight hours and a barely rising sun later, a scream of pain and fury ripped through the treetops.

* * *

Groggy, I barely noticed when the sounds of clashing metal started to ring through the trees, and with the rain pelting us like a good Atlantic hurricane, all attempts of trying to discover the source were deterred. Not like leaning over a hammock five meters up would be very good for my health anyway.

Only a couple seconds later did I realize that kaa-chan and Manda were missing, and that my scientific tou-chan was clenching long steel needles of up to five inches long in a white-knuckled grip, his entire body hunched over my crouching form like an overprotective mama hawk. Even if outside sound was muffled, sounds of combat still filtered in through the barrier, unmistakable like screams of pain and thunderous impacts against the ground and surrounding vegetation.

Dōsukēru’s scales bristled which tickled my neck, and her normally somewhat slitted pupils became nothing but a sea of black, almost her entire iris enveloped by the pupil that should have played the covering role. Then I noticed that her tail was twitching, almost vibrating against my bare bicep. After a particularly loud screech, she turned her dilated pupils on me in concern,  _ (why? Summons and ninken are the ones that are killed, humans are the ones that become prisoners, but living prisoners, not dead ones) _ , I noticed that my hands were quivering. Only the warmth of my dad’s chest against my back and his chakra, curling around me like a protective boa, prevented me from full out hyperventilating. Because my dear,  _ dear  _ kaa-chan is a katon user with a secondary, but barely there, wind affinity. Tou-chan was the one that could make water dance to his call, but my kaa-chan, my  _ mother, _ lacks one of her strongest weapons against the unknown enemy, in a world of  _ ninjas _ , because of a damned  _ rainstorm _ .

Maybe that’s why I was so desperate that I forgot that I’m useless (a teen in a toddler’s body), and that my nerdy dad never showed any combat abilities aside from escaping from Manda and occasionally fending off flying scrolls, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Go help kaa-chan! She can’t fight in the rain!” Perhaps yelling at the person whose ears were literally above my head wasn’t a wise idea, but, stress.

“She’s strong and can defend herself, even if she doesn’t have fire,” but his hands were shaking and how long has it been since he might’ve last seen a battlefield?

“Manda not good in rainforest, we all in trees!”

He shot me a startled glance, gold rimmed eyes asking many questions, many of which probably to do with my sudden intelligence.

“Dunno who enemy is, how will kaa-chan find their weakness without tou-chan’s help?” Because for so many missions my parents collaborated, with dad mapping out routes and planning attacks or defenses that can bring kaa-chan home the fastest and safest. I used to think that my parents just liked strategy games, but how wrong I once was.

The resolve in those golden orbs wavered,  _ just one more push… _

“Orochi will also want to have and know a kaa-chan too!” Low blow, but it worked. 

His breathing hitched–just a bare blink-and-you-miss moment–and then he was gone like a drizzle on a summer day, off to find and aid the most important woman in our lives (this life).

I shivered again, this time from the sudden lack of heat. Despair settled over me when I realized that I sent my only protection away, when I possibly sent my _dad_ to his _death,_ when I had possibly _triggered the event that_ orphaned _Orochimaru._

_ Dear Kami, and Shinigami, If your shitty faces are up or down there somewhere, please, please let them come back to home… _

As if mocking me, the storm raged on.

* * *

 

**Omake #1 Drunk Dad is Dumb Dad**

 

“Kaa-chan, why Dōsukēru name be Dōsukēru when she very blue?”

Kaa-chan shot my tou-chan a glare and he laughed nervously, hugging the beautiful purple egg that housed my future sibling to his chest, “you know, I think I  _ might _ need a bit of fresh air.” Then he speed walked away without a single hitch to jostle the egg, jumped up the ledge that led to outside the nursery, and was pretty much chased out of the chamber by muffled sniggering.

My very mature kaa-chan lifted a dainty brow at the surrounding serpents, before losing her composure and loudly guffawed at the laughing serpents. Yeah,  _ really _ mature…

I looked up at the violet haired women, “tell!” I demanded. Manners will be used later on, when someone actually tries a bit harder to teach them to me.

“Don’t forget to say please,” Manda hummed from his position, curled around our little family. Never mind, bribery is  _ real _ in this world.

Looks like manners shall return to little ol’ me, “pwease?” 

Even though the pronunciation was a bit off, puppy eyes in the face of a toddler cannot be denied. So my kaa-chan relented with a sigh, and told me the story of how tou-chan was just a  _ tiny _ bit drunk before my hatching. When I get older, He will  _ never _ be able to live this down.

“Once upon a time, before you were hatched,” my kaa-chan began.

One of the serpents muffled whispering reached my not-so-sensitive ears, “or rather, right before she was hatched.”

“Anyways,” my kaa-chan said loudly, “it was the day before your hatchday and since your chakra was rather agitated, we had assumed that you would hatch two days after, somewhat proven by the previous data gathered by the rest of the clan. Since we had a gist of the timeframe, and your tou-chan already had naming rights to Dō-chan-”

“Why?” I wondered out loud and interrupting her flow, the word having been taught to me by Manda as revenge against my parents. Too bad he became the target most of the time.

Kaa-chan huffed out, not exactly amused, but not too angry either. However, I daresay that she looked a tad bit embarrassed. “Your tou-chan…” I could not catch the rest of her words.

“Pardon?” Inquired Dōsukēru, ever the polite one (when she wasn’t being all  _ hissy-hissy look imma snake that can bite your face off _ )

“He won when we flipped a ryo.”

What.

My expression must’ve expressed my sentiments quite clearly, or perhaps it was because Dōsukēru had dropped her jaw (as a snake, her jaw can drop pretty far), so my dear mother  _ who lost her naming rights tossing a goddamn coin  _ sighed.

She quickly tried to shift the subject back onto track, or at least as on track as one of our conversations can get, which unfortunately – is not very.

But before she can get a single word out, Dōsukēru reclaimed her lower jawbone from its position on my collarbone and demanded why she was named by my parents, and not Manda, or her parents, something that also didn’t make much sense as  _ kids are generally named by  _ their _ parents. _ .

Unfortunately, kaa-chan just waved it off as “clan reasons”, and that we’re currently too young to understand. At least she tacked on the tidbit that apparently I was named by Manda, and my future little sib will also be named Manda also.

Then, a strange look also came over my kaa-chan’s eyes, and she mumbled to herself in a voice too low for me to hear, oh how I rue my random selective hearing! In the end, however, I did manage to snag a name from that garbled mess.  _ Looks like Takeshi is a name I’ll be looking out for. _

She shook herself out of her thoughts, smiled at us, and chirped out (faux)cheerfully, “your idiotic tou-chan decided to drink with your aunt and some of the others who could be dragged out of their labs the night before you were hatched. I would’ve gone too, had my amazing  _ motherly  _ instincts not screamed at me that I would regret it,” here she sniffed with indignation, “praise kami I stayed, otherwise no one would’ve been able to drag your tou-chan over since Manda would’ve been literal overkill.”

_ That still doesn’t tell me why Dōsukēru is named what she’s named! _

Kaa-chan, ever so oblivious to my internal screaming, mused out loud that it doesn’t matter how impressive the removal of blood is from clothing or whatever because compared to a hatching, everything else is insignificant to a parent. But being able to remove dried blood with only water and chakra in under three minutes is quite impressive, if you ask me, considering all the trouble it is ( _ was _ ) to get bloodstains out of clothing.

But, that’s off topic. Hence me pointing at the blue snake coiled around my shoulders. “Kaa-chan,  _ whyy? _ ” I demanded whilst waving my other incredibly  _ stubby _ arm in her face.

She cleared her throat, not at all abashed that she had fallen off topic to the abyss of randomness again. 

“After your tou-chan was dragged home half-conscious with what will amount to a dreadful hangover,” _ (how does she expect me to know what a hangover is?) _ “he decided to go to his lab and cook up a concoction that could hold off the worst of it. Unfortunately at the time, he was messing around with copious amounts of solutions that contained copper.” When I tilted my head to silently question how copper had anything to do with blue like a normal two year old (a pain considering chemistry was one of my strongest subjects when I was still… somewhere else), she hastily tacked on “most solutions that contain copper ions,” ( _ what the hell women),  _ “err...ions are one of the types of very small particles that makes up our world and consists of protons, probably neutrons, and a number of electrons unequal to the protons?”  _ You know what? I give up on this life. _

“Anyways,” thoroughly flustered, she bulldozed onwards and ignored the further handicaps of explaining science. “Copper as an ion in a solution is generally blue, and various different shades of it depending on the other elements or compounds present. Coincidentally, your kaa-chan, tou-chan and Manda- _ sama _ ,” the presumed ‘ _ sama _ ’ facefaulted in his unique manner before slithering away, muttering about how painful this ordeal of kaa-chan trying to tell a story was. After shooting her serpentine partner a poisonous glare, she continued where she left off, “were all reverse summoned to the nursery to witness your hatchings right after your drunk and therefore dumb tou-chan stared at, in his words, ‘so many pretty blue waters’. Then when he associated blue with copper in his usually brilliant brain, he decided to name Dōsukēru what first popped up in his mind.  _ How _ he managed to get through the entire ceremony without falling on his a–hind quarters will never be known, but since names announced in sacred ceremonies are ‘ _ sacred’,  _ Dōsukēru’s name stayed.

“The end.” 

Kaa-chan seemed rather proud to have gotten through her story/explanation, but I wasn’t impressed,

Neither was Dōsukēru for that matter, and one can only wonder who she’ll blow up on.

As long as it wasn’t me, I will be fine. After all, copper sulfate  _ is _ a rather beautiful blue colour, no?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is evil.   
> Please please leave a comment?


	9. Life Stops and Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is sadness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto  
> Warnings: swearing, panic, blood, angst, maybe bits of stringy fluff?

I was not able to sleep again that night. As constant sounds of battle reverberated through my ears and bursts of chakra fueled wind rocked my hammock, I shivered in fetal position with a now tiny blue snake coiled around my shoulders.

What seemed like hours later, the screams finally died down, only to be replaced by an eerie silence. Like everything else that happened this night, the silence (not peace, _ never peace _ ) was shattered by the first cry of grief. Like a contagious yawn, the dark treetops was then filled with yowls and hisses and grief weighed down by the unrelenting downpour. 

Being the first time that I’ve ever seen battle in both of my lives so far, I sat in shock. But Dōsukēru, ever the soft-spoken one, wailed from her position around my neck. Even when under the influence of grief, she was able to think of my comfort and held her head above mine, crying in the way their kind can without the destruction of my ear drums.

Neither of my parents returned that night, instead, my obasan (poor unfortunate Yasu obasan), came up to my hammock after pulsing chakra to disable the seal, covered in blood and gore and lugging a sleeping Hikaru on one hip, his partner clenched tightly around his left bicep. When Yasu obasan gently eased herself into seiza in front of me, careful not to jostle her slumbering toddler, her light purple and red scaled companion, Ume, peered at me from the curtain of hair around Yasu’s shoulder’s.

“The little ones are in shock,” whispered the snake who was named after plumes.

_ Gee, thanks for stating the obvious _ , some distant corner of my no-longer sane mind drawled. My aunt gave no indication that she heard other than a twitch in her ear.

After a staring contest that lasted a full ten seconds, my aunt’s eyes widened and lunged forward, startling me out of my stupor.

A jolt of chakra jolted my chest and suddenly I was breathing again. Along with stale air, words tumbled out of my mouth like a horizontal waterfall.

“Wherearethey _ wherearetheywhere-are-they?” _

Evidently, she had experience with deciphering toddler speech and amidst the soft snores of Hikaru (how is he  _ asleep? _ ), she spoke softly. “They are with everyone else, I will take you there now.” Her pronunciation was careful, articulate, as if the smallest of hitches would cause me to slide back into shock. Gentle as her voice was, there was no life in her chakra whatsoever. Not even her burning golden eyes did her spark of energy shine.

The brained housed by my skull brain, once my pride and joy, failed to notice my now  _ real _ sixth sense and I only nodded dumbly before raising both my arms in the universal gesture of  _ up _ .

My now sparkless pyro aunt slowly shifted into a crouch before shuffling over to me. I didn’t notice that the bloodstains were still growing on her robes before I had latched onto her unburdened side. As she stood up with me carefully balanced on the hip opposing Hikaru, I rubbed my eyes with the back of a hand that had gripped her sleeve. To my dawning horror, I realized that blood, thick and slowly drying, coated the fingers. 

Dōsukēru sensed my distress and squeezed a bit. I don’t think she realized that it isn’t all that comforting when you’re in the aftermath of a carnage filled battlefield and something squeezes around your neck. It says a lot when I barely twitched, dying once and living again having taught me that life both is and isn’t as precious as we thought. Not healthy, but whatever.

After clambering back to her feet unsteadily, Yasu obasan lurched forwards and jumped off the hammock. Without the protection of the barriers, all three of us were instantly soaked. Or rather, I was soaked while my aunt and cousin just regained all the liquid that they had lost during the brief period of time that they had spent on my families hammock.

I pinched shut my burning eyes against the onslaught of rain and buried my face into my aunt’s mildly bloodied robes, furtively trying to pretend that the rain dripping down my face didn’t taste salty.

* * *

Somehow, I must’ve fallen asleep on the trip to wherever my aunt was taking me, as when I woke up the sun was trying to fight its way out of a barrage of clouds.  _ Outside _ a window that was located on a  _ wall _ .

First of all, our clan lives underground most of the time we’re moving around, with only a select few villages or such where we would choose to rent out an entire street of hotels/motels in advance. Somehow our budget can take it, a mercy that I won’t question anytime soon.

This however, leads to the fact that  _ when _ we are out of town, our clan compound is generally a series of interlocking rooms, chambers, tunnels, and whatnot below the ground. Windows on the sides of walls that let in  _ sunlight _ would be an impossible feat, unless we for some reason decided to relocate to the side of a cliff. 

Nobody’s dumb enough to do  _ that _ .

Hence the question, as I vividly recall my last memory in the waking world being stranded in the middle of the effin’ rainforest on a  _ hammock _ while the sky decided to drown us.

A soft sound of cloth rustling on the side caused me to tense, not a single adult that I know will make sound when they move. 

“You awake, Suija-chan?” 

The breathe that I had inadvertently started holding let itself out, as the voice belonged to the very familiar human aka my cousin Hikaru.

“Yesss, she is.”

“Dōsukēru,” I gasped out, “I can’t breathe.”

With a chortling laugh, my not-shrunk pal glided off of my chest, the perch that she had probably used the entire time I was asleep. “Like you need much air to begin with.”

“I take offense to that!”

“May I enquire as to how Suijami-chan can use such sophisticated vocabulary?”

_ Shit _ . I let out a grumble as I sat up from my curled up position. Unlike Hikaru, his partner, Kuroryuu is as smart as they come despite being unfailing polite. Now, if only his intelligence included a brain filter that added tact…

Thankfully lovely little Dōsukēru came to my rescue, “her brain works best when she’s lacking oxygen,” my partner deadpanned at the duo. Ok, never mind. She’s an asshole.

Kuroryuu looked at me as if I had grown a second head, back to Dōsukēru again, and shook his head in mock sadness. “This madness must run in the family.”

Then he stiffened as if he said something he shouldn’t and my brain backtracked.

Window on wall = not at home, then when you add only-in-company-of-young-cousin…

Dōsukēru must’ve noticed my distress once again, as she nudged my hand with a slim blue coil then gently curled her tail around my fist that had finally loosened its hold on the scratchy bedsheets. On second thought, I would recognize these sheets anywhere. Only the Shiro-Sakura hotel of Takumi would have sheets that looked like patchwork quilts sewn together with ninja wire. They take their work  _ very seriously _ . Ok, maybe the white sakura flower present on nearly every inch of the quilt-like covering also has to do with my deduction, but still…

There goes the topic I was on.

Then I suddenly remembered the tension present in the room, the tension that was reflected in both of the snakes but barely present in Hikaru.

“Where are kaa-chan and tou-chan?” I questioned, a tilt to my head. It wouldn’t do for Kuroryuu to be more suspicious than needed, a three-year-old toddler shouldn’t need to be able to read the atmosphere or use sophisticated vocabulary, I only told Dōsukēru because I know that she will be by my side for the remainder of my life and reincarnation isn’t something you can grow out of, or the extra teenage years that I had.

Truly a comparison against a cousin who’s “only” eighteen months older than me and currently trying to find a way out other than the door. 

I winced when the hold on my fist tightened unconsciously, the snake herself avoiding my gaze.

“Everybody is in the hotel,” she hissed hesitantly, Looking out the window and gauging the time, she then continued: “or out searching for food and restocking up on weaponry…” 

“Not everybody, just kaa-chan and tou-chan,” a rock settling in my gut when Dōsukēru side-slithered out of the question.

As cliche as it would be, that was the moment that the seals around our room ( _ humming and buzzing like a fly in syrup _ ) went down. Or at least the moment where a temporary hole appeared and the door slid open.

“Kaa-chan!”  _ She’s alive, thank kami and all the existing shitstains above. _

Something wasn’t right however, her violet hair was falling out of the low ponytail that she had worn it in and there were large black bags under her eyes, threatening to eat up the rest of our combined sanities. 

“Suijami-chan,”  _ shit _ , “you’re finally awake.”  _ What? _

Seeing my look of confusion, the violet-haired woman let out a sigh, smoothing her thumb over the great scaly head that was attached to the purple snake coiled beside her.

“Your aunt put you into a genjutsu,” an annoyed curl of the upper lip, “but she sucks at the finer aspects of ying chakra control. That idiot overpowered the compulsion to relax and you kids were in a sleep for the past day and a half, nobody with enough control and chakra could be spared to wake the two of you up.”

No wonder Hikaru was sleeping when my aunt picked me up after… 

My eyes widened in horror as I processed the meager amount of information provided to me.

Yasu obasan had stuck me,  _ me, _ into a genjutsu with her child and nobody could break us out. 

Tou-chan loved telling stories, and his favourite method was through  _ realistic genjutsu _ .

_ Nobody with enough control and chakra could be spared to wake the two of you up. _

“Mamoru oji-san is good at it though,”  _ no no no please don’t answer…  _ “why didn’t he wake us up?”

My dear cousin,  _ you complete and utterly useless Fool _ .

Courtesy of ninja training, my kaa-chan didn’t cry, nor show any of the other too obvious tells. But to me, a teenager wearing a toddler’s shell in front of a woman who didn’t think that every little thing needed to be hidden from children, the miniscule hitch in breath and the slight dilution of slitted eyes said it all. 

In three steps, or perhaps less (who’s counting?), I was crushed into a rough embrace. Dōsukēru having twined herself around my arm, all three feet of her. 

Only horror and guilt ( _ so much damn guilt _ )could describe my emotions when I felt a wetness slowly soak through my hair, frizzed up as it is (chakra does nothing for bed hair).

“He’s dead, your tou-chan is dead.”

Sometime during the tear fest that started right around her blunt statement, our aunt had silently came to pick up Hikaru and Kuroryuu. In the same manner of time being relative, Manda had curled around the lot of us like an oversized comforter/scurf-thing. Even though he wasn’t the largest fan of my dad (some alpha male thing, probably…), we were all family. Or was...

Some details will be spared, but after crying out the black, sniveling, goo of guilt that was stuck in my lungs and heart, kaa-chan told me the specifics. Not without resistance, however.

“How did it happen?” I swear Dōsukēru has more of a backbone than I do.

“You won’t understand.”

_ “Try me.” _

She heaved a sigh and when the two of wasn’t deterred by her sighing, let out a genuine rasp of breath. Just as she was about to begin though, Manda interrupted with a tail in her face. After a heated argument via body language (lots of Manda flailing and kaa-chan trying to form signs and reaching poses that wouldn’t suffocate me), my kaa-chan subsided and let Manda take the non-existent stage.

“Your delightful tou-chan got it in his head that we needed rescuing.” I hid a wince, which probably was as evident as if I didn’t. “The battle was in the dark, and apparently a group of missing-nin had found our hanging dens.”

“How could a couple missing-nins do so much damage?” I questioned, horrified. Unless the Akatsuki had reincarnated ahead of their time period or something, missing-nin tended to travel solo or in doubles, rarely in groups large enough to attack an entire caravan(that had ninja protection), let alone a wandering clan.

“That is because… ”the snake trailed off, looked at my kaa-chan for confirmation. Somehow he got his answer and the violet serpent huffed and leaned in as if telling a very cruel secret, by now I was seated in my mom’s lap and facing the snake, the woman herself in a comfortable seating position in the same direction as I was in. “They weren’t just missing-nin, there was also ninjas.  _ Actual _ shinobis and kunoichi from villages.”  _ Wait, what?  _ He pulled back a bit, his face grimacing in disgust and impossibly sharp fangs showing through the gaps, unsatisfied with what he was going to say next. 

“They either wore crossed out hitai-ate or white masks. The masked ones are known as ANBU, the open-secret elite black ops that each village has. Unfortunately all of the ANBU bodies were destroyed or vanished before we could get a hold of any evidence pointing to a village,” he leered, the scales around his eyes thrown into contrast and giving his slitted pupils a demonic slant. 

“We however, killed every. Single. One. For as long as our clan prospers, as long as our clan lives, each one of us taken down will require ten of theirs to pay in blood and lives. If a pair of partners are separated by death, many,  _ many _ more will fall. Mark my words and listen well Sui-chan, this clan is vain, yes, but we are proud. Proud of the intellect that so many shun, and the marks of our ancestors that prove a connection so deep that it's imprinted into our very blood and bones.”

Wow he’s dramatic. Annnnd he’s good at changing the topic.

“Tell me ‘bout tou-chan!” I demanded, interrupting his speech of our clan’s gloriousness.

Thoroughly put off by my interjection, he scowled and muttered under his breath, something about eating disrespectful brats like usual I presume. Whatever it was, it earned him a cuff on the head with my mom giving a bare quirk of her lips in a semblance of a watery grin.

However long the good mood lasted, it did not survive long after Manda opened his jaws again.

“He died from an attack from behind.” Of course he did, ninjas just don’t play by rules, do they? “Mamoru had reached us at the crux of the fighting, and all the able-bodied had separated into sections that suited their styles the best. Meaning, we all went double, the humans and the snakes partnering up like what we always had.

“Your tou-chan didn’t have the ability to do so however, his retiring from active service about a year before your hatching because his partner died.” 

I perked up, more attentive than ever. This, I never knew. Logically, yes I knew that sometime in his life tou-chan must’ve had a partner, they’re sort of the physical and living mark of the Kinme clan. But to hear that he once had a partner that had died before I was even present, it really hit it in.

Then a breath of chill air washed over me, what if the cost of my existence was the partner of my dad? Around a year, so around the same time I was conceived? Or a couple months later when my soul was yanked over to this world of ninjas and sealed gods?  _ I refuse to believe that my existence ended tha– _ the thought couldn’t be completed, as something deep down tugged at me, something perhaps as deep as a soul. 

Reincarnation was already proven in this world, such was the cycle of Indra and Ashura, despite their sibling rivalry. And didn’t my little otouto delve into the researching of immortality for a chance of meeting our parents again? (A half of which he will never kn–  _ down that path is madness. _ ) Perhaps the snake just slithered through the cracks of the world and into another, much like yours truly. Hopefully.

“ –that, his yang chakra ran out. Not enough balance between his own chakra and that of nature's caused his arms to solidify into stone, starting from his forearms.”  _ I think I missed something _ …

Manda elaborated on the  _ solidification of my dad’s arms!? _ without my needing to open my mouth to ask. Good thing too, I didn’t think I could keep all the guilt bottled up.

“The snakes of the Ryushi cave can use tiny amounts of nature chakra, after it is channeled through our human counterparts. That’s why everyone who is of age and is capable of using chakra to summon have scales, the petrification process is slow and only happens when the balance is off, which is generally when the children have just unlocked their own chakra and want to use it to let their partners unshrink to their actual size. 

“If too much nature chakra is taken in, it results in the solidification, first into scales, then it will turn to rock. Mamoru didn’t have enough of his own chakra left and Takeshi was long dead, so when he drew upon that of nature’s,” Manda winced, and I agreed with him wholeheartedly, “it resulted in his arms, you know how he had a collection of scales along his forearms?” When I nodded, I felt my kaa-chan’s embrace tighten  _ that much _ and Dōsukēru nestled her head into the crook of my elbow, unwilling to hear anymore of how her surrogate uncle died.

“They turned to stone. He’s been off the battlefield and off the mission roster for years now, but even if he hadn’t, the weight of his own arm turning into stone would’ve taken him off balance. As it was, we were close by but not close  _ enough _ when the enemy decided to stab Mamoru through the back with a poisoned naginata. The poison wouldn’t have been a problem, most of us trained shinobi have at least some measure of resistance, but he was stabbed through a lung and his experiments on himself has left him rather… receptive to outside chemicals.

“The poison was a fast-acting sedative. Adding in two growing arms of stone that can’t channel chakra, nobody was able to reach him in time to prevent his attacker from finishing the job.”

After a moment of silence, I heard kaa-chan speak up behind me, voice but a grinding whisper and her fingers audibly tightening over her blade.

“That bastard’s dead, perforated by too many fangs and blades.”

Yeah… she’s still out of it.

I might need to hit something to get out of this damn shock too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (sorta late) Chinese New Year!!  
> Anyways, comments are precious things that I hold close to my (icicle) heart?  
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Weapons, Music, and Mental cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the title pretty much sums everything up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto  
> Warnings: Swearing, potentially

Over the next near dozen months, the only notable event that occurred was Orochimaru being brought over after crawling his first … step? I wasn’t present at the time, as I was under the tutelage of Yasu obasan in ninja arts with Hikaru. Due to Orochimaru needing most of kaa-chan during his waking hours and her needing to take more missions to get the money needed for our needs, I didn’t get to stay with her as much as I would’ve liked. 

The kiddo survived to his first birthday too, who would’ve known? It was celebrated in another temple where most of the clan got together to play a disjointed birthday song and eat amazing cake. It was one of the few instances where kaa-chan laughed heartily without all the grief obscuring her, the fact that Orochi gurgled happily with her when Sugiryuu was summoned over made the scene one that’ll never be forgotten.

As it was, the past months I spent more time with other members of our clan than my own mother. Even after Orochimaru came over,  _ especially _ after Orochimaru was summoned over, she had to spend more and more time on missions or short errands. She didn’t even see Orochimaru stumble his first steps,  _ kami damnit. _ When she can’t come home for the clan supper and I would end up eating with my aunt and Hikaru, Orochi would settle on my lap and gnaw on my chin-length hair. Oh how the tables have turned.

Orochimaru himself… was a grabby little brat with enough curiosity to kill the Matatabi. Case in point, he saw the kunai that I was sharpening for my aunt and others (to earn pocket money because dammit kaa-chan’s tired enough already) and decided that nomming on cold steel was a good idea.

Bad Orochi, nomming on pointy things is not good for anyone’s mental health, especially your onee-chan. 

A good side of his coming over was that I wasn’t lonely anymore in the event where I was home while kaa-chan was elsewhere for short periods of time, a fact that I strongly appreciated when I discovered that three-year olds/three-year-old-to-bes were not supposed to understand death, let alone mourn the gone. 

Wasn’t  _ that _ a fine thing to discover after tou-chan’s death. 

At least Dōsukēru didn’t mind too much when I cried into her scales at night or when no one else was around, she only seemed to become mildly annoyed when I start leaking mucus everywhere. Of course Manda seemed suspicious (damn snakes and their sense of smell) but he didn’t ever inform my now somewhat insomniac mom.

Sugiryuu, Orochi’s partner, is a brilliant shade of violet like Manda. I swear all purple snakes are just mother hens under the disguise of being a complete and utter shits. If I hear him ask  _ one more time _ whether or not I should be sharpening murder weapons when kaa-chan isn’t home,  _ someone _ is going to be in a bit more trouble than tongue-tied.

On that vein of note, I am going to circle my chubby little fingers around Manda’s neck and  _ throttle _ him the next time I see that fat purple head. Why, oh why, did Manda teach Orochimaru the word  _ why!? _ That jerk was smirking as he did so too! But I have to admit, Orochi’s unending stream of “why”s certainly is a good way of getting my head off of the fact that we were approaching the forest where we were ambushed last year. 

The stay in the Takumi village was longer this year, as some of the faster clansmen were sent into the forest to scout out the road. The Kinme will not be caught unawares again.

This however, resulted me in celebrating my fourth birthday (a number associated with death) in the village of Artisans.

By now, I’ve realized that there are too many traditions in a clan, and many of them revolve around the gaining of an age or the completion of a milestone, I would know. 

For the past year and a half, I have watched my cousin Hikaru work his way through a plethora of weaponry, all sharp points or blunt trauma. Some days I watched as he tripped and flailed the morningstar at a sapling and obliterated the poor thing, and other days I would watch as he pulled the bow a bit to taut and release when he shouldn’t. Sometimes even with the wrong hand.

I generally find it rather entertaining watching him practice unless it backfires on the spectators. We swore each other into secrecy (with a pinky swear) on the never-to-be-talked-about experimentation with the battle axes. Plural for reasons that will remain unknown.

Of course, he didn't use the entire year and a half to find his preferred weapon, but eventually he settled on a kusarigama, a sickle that had an iron ball attached via very long, very swingable chain.

And now that we passed through Takumi again, one of the professional smiths, weapon masters, whatever, will be payed by my aunt to collision for a kusarigama. I am rather sure that due to our both being single families, my kaa-chan shares her income with my aunt, who in turn takes care of Orochi and I. 

Hikaru had it even worse than we did, as Yasu obasan’s husband died before Hikaru even turned one. According to rumours * _ coughgossipcough*  _ during supper, her spouse might have either been a bastard Hyuuga (rather unlikely, currently rated at 7%) or a civilian Yamanaka (thought to be 84%). Despite them obviously knowing who Hikaru’s father was, apparently the adults want the kids to gather information themselves.  _ Goddammit _ , I  _ hate _ talking to humans.

On the topic of Hikaru, he also started learning how to play an instrument of his choosing shortly after he turned 5. For some reason, no one is teaching him how to play it and letting him experiment on the drum/violin crossbreed himself.

Due to being snakes, Dōsukēru, Kuroryuu and Sugiryuu all have somewhat sucky hearing, but phenomenal smelling and  _ heat-sensory? _ But even they can agree that Hikaru is not all that made for music.  _ Oh kami the horror! _

As for Orochi and I, I sorta just grab my little bro and sling on our partners and  _ run like hell _ . Unfortunately, I’m still human and can’t run at the speed of sound so I earn myself a clingy, whiny brother that looks at me in horror whenever a new note is being played, or mauled. Take your pick. Thankfully he realized that humming with his ears plugged can relieve some of the torture, but his having both hands away meant I had to juggle two snakes and a baby human at the same time. Chakra is helpful in that regard, but nope. Even magic ninja bullshit can’t help when snake-kids want to accelerate to the speed of sound.

So here I was, jogging lightly while piggybacking a homo sapien and two snakes.

Most of the civilians of Takumi barely even gave me a second look, although some waved cheerily. Unfortunately, there were always the assholes that tried to make life miserable, even if they can be counted on all my digits.

What can I say? Despite our clan’s bi-yearly near month-long stays which earn the village a considerable bit of income (and protection), some people just discriminated against our pale skin, multicoloured hair and genetic make-up. Oh, and the snakes.

Honestly, why some people would antagonize one of their homes most important source of income, I’ll never know. Maybe it's similar to the leaf’s hate of an innocent child? Or the isolation of a motherless sand-wielder? Or–I’m just making myself depressed now, no depressing thoughts around Orochi, it’s something he picks up too easily. Only when its our little family though, he never seems to notice when a stranger is letting off social cues. Maybe he’s ignoring them all, maybe he just gives no shit. At all.

“Oi! Sui-chan!”

I whipped my head around, searching for the excited voice of the teenager that apparently was going to forge my weapon (when I know whatever I’m gonna use). Orochi sniffled on my back where my stubby ponytail had just whipped him in the face.

“Hiya Susumu-nii!” I answered, the teen bounded over from the front of his dad’s smithery to where I was and hefted up a disgruntled Orochimaru before settling the kiddo on his shoulders. My little brother immediately grabbed ahold of Susumu’s spiky brown hair and virtually huggd the teen, probably trying to wheedle away as much heat as possible.

I’m seriously doubting the logic of clan genetics now. Only clan kids seem to have weird hair.

Shivering in the cold autumn air (I never had this problem Before), I drew my dark blue yukata a bit tighter, Dōsukēru slithering out of my neckline in response to my actions.

“So,” Susumu drawled, “have ya started looking for yer primary weapon yet?”

I swear he’s more enthusiastic then I am with my future possible weapon(s). It’s traditional for Kinmes to commision our weapons at Takumi village, not even just the plain kunai and shurikens either, everything metal made from katanas to tantos to metal bows and claws. After finding a weapon that suits a child ninja-to-be, the parents (or clan if the child is an orphan) would commission the specified weapon for the kid.

The area around Takumi is a rainforest (River country, duh), and the mines of Katabami supplies a lot more than gold, the rare chakra-conducting metal among them, and so the blacksmiths of Takumi all have an ample supply of materials. Of course, there are always trade secrets passed down through family lines. With their array of usable materials and family secrets, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the blacksmiths have kekkei genkai created for the need of specialized smithing.

It would explain a lot too, especially since most named weapons are created here, although sometimes possibly with some collaboration with wandering Uzumakis. I remember Uzumaki Kenta constantly getting dragged away from our clan and his Kinme-blooded wife every single time we set foot in this village, it’s so scary it’s funny.

A ruffle to my already messed up hair “Sui-chan, ya in there?”

I pouted at the brunette and swatted at his hand. Even though it missed, I think he got the point that I was already pissed at Orochi for grabbing at my hair too much.

“I’ve already started trying out stuff” cuz weaponry is a word four-year-olds shouldn’t be using. His less-encouraging, more-annoying pat on the head resulted in me glaring at him with slitted pupils. “Kaa-chan let me use kunai because she let me use wooden kunai ‘parrently since I could walk, and shuriken because they are for throwing. She wants me to try the senbon soon.”

Susumu’s eye twitched and his chakra basically face-faulted, ha. He didn’t need to know my skill with normal ninja ware.

“Buuut, she also let me try out a na-gin-a-ta,” I barely concealed a flinch, no way in ever frosting Pluto was I going to use the weapon that killed my father, “which I didn’t want.”  _ Ditched it like it was a piece of burning diarrhea.  _ “Then she let me try out a ka-ta-na and –”

“Did ya like the long blade?” Yeah, he’s very enthusiastic.

I shook my head and frowned, inwardly a bit glad that he took my mind off of the naginata that I was presented with. 

“Nope, the balance felt wrong. Kaa-chan was sad that I didn’t like her ka-ta-na, and the smaller katana–”

“A wakizassshi.”

“Thanks,” I stroked the blue head that had settled next to my cheek. “The wakizashi felt better, but still unbalanced. So kaa-chan got me to try out a tanto ‘cuz it’s shorter.” I grinned up at Susumu, “and it was awesome! I think using two would be fun though…”

After a pause, I realized that he had stopped when I had implied that I had found a suitable weapon.

If Uzumaki are said to be seal fanatics, then the residents of Takumi can be described as weapon obsessed. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tenten? I think that was her name? Was/will be a descendent of a Takumi blacksmith.

He put down Orochimaru (who immediately wobbled over to me and latching onto my waist, that adorable little midget) before giving me a distracted wave, then turned and left, mumbling all the while.

I shrugged, I’ve been ignored in weirder ways. Watching him accidentally faceplant after being tripped by a stray embedded kunai was mildly entertaining though.

* * *

Our clan stayed in Takumi for a couple more days but my little family stayed in the village for a bit longer as Susumu laboured in the forge with directions from his dad and random input from my mom and little ol’ me.

When I finally received the weapon a week later (there were lagging from missing materials as the village is always stocked, who knew when there will be a ninja in need?), kaa-chan was very pleased with the result.

Just like I had wanted (for some reason they took four-year-olds very seriously), it was a pair of tanto. Or for me, it was a pair of medieval-esque daggers. I don’t understand ninja tanto, why the hell don’t they have a guard? The last thing anyone needs is for their hand to slip when stabbing their enemy and cutting open their hands. I’m no expert on weaponry, but they’ve never made sense to me.

Anyhow, the  _ daggers _ that I received were amazing. They sheathes were of a sturdy brown wood inlaid with blue-tinged metal, protecting the tips and the place where the dagger is sheathed, aka the locket. The two were nigh on identical except for the faint carvings of a snake on each. They were both curled around the scabbard and while the one for the left hand was depicted with a sun, the other had a moon.

I haven’t even seen the blade yet and I already think I’m in love.

Under the gaze of an extremely fatigued Susumu and everyone else present, I unsheathed the one with the moon.

The blade was unadorned, and it was just curved the tiniest bit, with a serrated edge near the guard. Both edges of the blade was sharpened, and the entire thing was just a bit over a foot while the handle was a black leather-wrapped four inches, or about ten centimeters. A squiggle of silver could be seen along the length of the blade, which upon further inquiry was a hollowed out section that could be used to store poison. According to a very proud father, his son had used chakra conducting-conducting metal for almost the entire blade, and a harder metal was used as a skeletal structure/base thingy to prevent snapping. 

While I was ogling the blade with everyone else, Orochimaru had climbed up and snagged the twin dagger. When the little brat unsheathed the blade, his look of worshipful admiration will be an image I’ll keep as blackmail for years to come. 

As a matter of fact, I think I now know where he got his blade, the kusanagi. It would suit a child too wouldn’t it? Considering the elongating properties of the jian, it would be a convenient weapon for anyone.

Actually…

“What else does this blade do?” I questioned, not prepared to be disappointed because it would be impossible to be disappointed in something like this, but just open with curiosity.

Susumu pouted, the look not meshing well with the bags under his eyes. “Why Sui-chan, ya still doubt me?” I shook my head aggressively, “well, they both have a seal inside the guard that allows it to be summoned back to ya,” kamis above I can nearly hear myself cackling while running away from the afterlife. No Siree, this little snake ain’t gonna kick the bucket by losing her weapon. “They’re both already paired with storage seals too, once linked to ya, they won’t respond to anyone else unless granted permission.”  _ Me likey, me likey very much. _

Gently prying the naked blade from my year-old otouto, I sheathed both of the daggers.

“Well? Arncha gonna name them?” 

I looked at my mom, who chuckled as she shook her head. 

When I looked back at the blades, I honestly couldn’t think of any names unless…

I lifted the blade of the sun “Tensei.” Reincarnation. Then the moon one, where I smiled with too many teeth-

“Kaguya.”

* * *

Nothing much happened on the trip back to the clan, except for us leaving rather early in the morning to get through the damned forest as quickly as possible. Orochimaru clung onto kaa-chan’s back like a stubborn baby koala and Manda gave me a ride. The younger snakes either dozed on one of us, or tried to keep up through the branches of the forest. If not for Manda being able to circulate chakra in a way that attracted mine, I would’ve fallen off too many times to count.

Falling off twenty feet branches in a rainforest is not a wise idea, no matter how cushioning the foliage could be.

Tree jumping was what kaa-chan did, Manda  _ zipped _ . Due to the bulk needed for him to be able to support a child and one to two other snakes, he let a bit of chakra off of the solid henge  _ apparently _ only summons could do and would coil himself around a tree before launching himself at the next tree, a task that was much,  _ much _ faster than it sounds like. I don’t think he minded much when I was shrieking and whooping next to his non-existent ears, but he did threaten to eat me when I nearly fell off during a longer jump. Orochi just gurgled on sheer amazed…  _ something _ (I think my otouto may be an adrenaline junkie), and giggled when he heard Manda cussing at me. Kaa-chan was somewhat amused, but Manda didn’t even pause with his sailor mouth.

Ah well, he cares somewhere in his deep scaly heart. Probably.

* * *

Life wasn’t that different after I turned four, except having an additional slot in my day where I was taught how to handle weapons correctly. As of yet, none of my clan-mates have  _ actively _ started teaching me how to handle chakra, but hints were dropped everywhere like scattered scales. Hikaru however, did start learning handsigns. Apparently our clan wants us to be able to play an instrument first before being able to use chakra, maybe it was so we would have a better rhythm or not fumble as often?

Meh, clan’s are weird.

They are also weird in that somehow I now have a seal tattooed in the back of my throat, and only a warning a couple days prior told me of the fact. Thankfully it was just a storage seal, otherwise I would be pissed. According to the adults who I snagged information off of, all of the either have a storage seal at the root of their tongue or in the back of the throat. “It’s good security”, they said, “it catches enemies unawares”, they said, “it makes for good convoy missions”, a particularly weird adult cackled.  _ I _ think I’ll  _ love _ having this storage seal in the back of my throat, once I stop my gagging reflexes.

That happened when I was about five months away from turning five, and therefore wandering around in Uzushio.

Oh kami, the Uzumaki are  _ crazy _ . Everything in their city is covered with seals, and everything was so  _ bright _ .

Not to mention the shades of red, I suppose it’s the only time of year that Kenta could not stand out like a literal underground bonfire, but that does not excuse him chucking the rest of the clan to the seal fanatics and running off cackling. Admittedly, most of our clan  _ did _ go off willingly…

All in all, Uzushio is  _ amazing. _

* * *

Turning five meant that I was going to learn an instrument. Perhaps the more accurate term would be that I am to  _ invent _ my own instrument. Suddenly, the complete jumble of instruments that had been played during the first birthday of everyone in our clan made a lot more sense. So was the horrible sound of strangled elephants that was occasionally emitted from Hikaru and Yasu obasan’s bunk, accompanied by frenzied crashing on Ume’s behalf when she was trying to escape.

The construction of the instrument was much easier than I had imagined. Despite not being able to use chakra outside my body with any control, a small smear of my blood on a seal connected my chakra to it. For a random factoid, the seal seemed to be on a clothe, easier to wash the blood off, they say. The smudges argue that wrong in their own smudgy way.

Kaa-chan was the one to gently poke a hole in my right thumb, and it was also her as she stood behind me in our living room, completely ignored as I realized that the seal had projected an illusion.

The illusion, or  _ genjutsu _ as the ninjas call it, was just a light red haze, the chakra that had taken control of my brain however was anything but light, despite it not being malicious. Kinda like a cat purring while resting on your naked brain, I suppose? However, the second my hand was guided back to the seal, blood and all, facets of the haze cleared or deepened and literally created out of thin air my thought process was formed into being. The mental cat stretched.

In other words, my kaa-chan saw in perfect clarity the moment the haze reformed itself into glowing red letters of ‘WTF’, cat style. It was not the proudest moment of my life.

She probably didn’t realize it was anything other than squiggles (and cats) because she left me to my own devices and went to check on Orochimaru. A crash telling me that Orochi was in the kitchen, Sugiryuu had helped him get onto the counter, and he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You just gotta love two year-olds.

I poked around with the seal and the mental cat rolled around a bit. It wasn’t  _ that _ uncomfortable, but the headache I can feel coming will be. Thankfully it wasn’t that hard to figure it out.

If I channeled chakra to my fingertips and just kept them there, I can draw in the haze. Depending on the amounts of chakra, the lines could be thin or thick, and the intent (wasn’t that a dozy to figure out) would change whether or not the lines were solid or transparent. Large alterations could be created by picturing an image (all 3D style) and pressing a hand against the seal, while small ones could be made by focusing on a particular spot while my hand hovered above the seal. The level of focus would be determined via the distance between the seal and my hand. After the experimentation was done, a conclusion can be made that the creator’s of the seal are damn scary. Actually, looking back at the seal, the conclusion would  _ have  _ to be changed to the Uzumaki are damn scary, the spiral at the center speaks its story.

After all, they created a manipulative 3D projection with nothing but cloth and ink, a seal perfect for construction and mapping out ideas. (Not to mention the possible military applications).

Yanking my mind away from the possible thoughts of Uzushio’s destruction, I started working on my future instrument in earnest. I understand the fact that showing off too much in a clan of mad scientists isn’t all that productive to my continued mental health, but  _ kami dammit _ I would like an artefact from Before.

A red case gradually solidified itself, and strings connected the top to the bottom. Two little footrest-like objects protrude from the bottom (I rarely used the third) and hammers of solid red laid themselves across approximately ninety strings, some in triples, most in doubles, and a few singles. Then the keys flowed out like the placement of wooden blocks, most a light shade of solid red and some so dark it could be said to be black.

The process sounds easy but it took hours of tweaking, of remembering, and trying to recreate the inside of my instrument that I rarely saw, the only times being when the inspector comes for a tune-up.

But it worked! I could feel tears dripping down my face as I took in the sight of an upright piano, a fragment of Before created by the Hazelton Bros. Now me. Now an instrument that was tweaked and improved upon for centuries was brought to a world of ninjas. 

Having seen the entire construction process and bearing witness to my silent tears, the only one that understood my pain nudged my cheek and flicjed out her tongue, catching a couple drops of the salty liquid.

“You did it,” Dōsukēru hissed, I can see her proud smile without even having to look.

“Yup, I–I did it, didn’t I?”

Then the mental cat threw a tantrum and clawed my brain. Darkness claimed me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha sorry I forgot to post on Sunday, blame school.


	11. Wishing for (Peace) Impossibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our dear Suijami is conflicted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

I flopped over gracelessly onto the sand and groaned, careful not to fall on my snake pal. 

“Why kaa-chan,  _ whyyyy _ .” I whined, every inch of me sore like a ballet dancer decided to do the weird (but graceful) spin things on all of my nerve clusters. Elephants stand no chance against ballet dancers, I tell you.

Meanwhile, Orochimaru was just clapping joyfully on the sidelines, basking in his older sibling’s suffering. That little shit.

I’ll teach him to laugh at me when it’s time for me to  _ demon _ strate to him how to throw a kunai.

It’s the only thing I can throw... 

First of all, shuriken are weird as heck.  _ It’s all in the wrist _ they say,  _ all it needs is a little spin! _

_ Um,  _ no. They are pointy objects with eight curved edges that fit in the palm of a toddler’s hand and used to stab and maim fellow organic beings. That’s not even taking into account the hole in the center, what if some arrogant kid decided to show off by spinning a shuriken on their finger and accidently launched it? 

Second are the senbon. Yes, I can understand the discreteness, the  _ ninja-ness _ of using thin metal needles to kill your enemies. Just take Haku for instance, despite him demonstrating that the senbon can be non-lethal, his precision allowed him to place Zabuza into a fake state of death. Like, he also peppered the two males of team 7 with senbon and they were up and running a couple days later. That amount of pointy metal stuff inside a body is  _ not _ natural.

The fact that I am incapable of throwing senbon also may or may not be due to my not being able to grip it properly, or due to  the  _ kami-damned flick of the wrist _ . For some reason the senbon always spin when I chuck it, like what a shuriken is supposed to do when anyone other than me throws it… It’s pretty funny until I realize that no matter how I angle my throwing, the senbon always  _ smacks _ the training dummy.

In the face. 

At least it leaves a dent?

My accuracy with a kunai is decent though, but compared to prodigies like the Uchiha and etc., I’m but a bumbling fool that can only hit the target eight out of ten times. Which is very sucky apparently for a five year old kid who should’ve just started learning numbers  _ and not have the first fifty or so elements of the periodic table memorized out of boredom. _

(Hopefully tou-chan, wherever he is, is proud of me, cuz now that I count to ten to calm down via elements, I feel like a very pale and short (ha) Edward Elric.)

Footsteps sounded by my head and I resisted the urge to open my eyes. Kaa-chan was definitely coming to torment me with weapon practice again, I could just  _ feel _ the muffled glee in her chakra.

“Stahp, me need water–” muffled gurgling clawed its way out from my thoroughly abused stomach, “–and food.”

Loud guffawing laughter sounded by my ears and I felt myself being picked up by the back of my tunic. I could tell that Dōsukēru was getting the same treatment from Manda after uncoiling bonelessly from around my waist. Fair enough, she did her share in our spar (one-sided beat-down) against my mom and Manda. Even if she was careful to not use any venom in her bites, being accidentally bit by any snake is a good deterrent against trying to restrain a Kinme’s arms. 

Granted, most of my clan members are perfectly capable of slipping out of a hold after using chakra to alter our skeletal system or something, but the children who aren’t allowed to use clan jutsus have a sneaky advantage lots of shinobi don’t. However, if the clan was breached to the extent that even the children were needed to fight back, being constrained would  _ probably _ be the least of our problems.

So,  _ yeeaaaah _ , sparring with dulled weapons and fangs it was.

Life was pretty simple at the moment, and I never noticed how  _ learning _ orientated our clan was. In the morning, I would do whatever is required (brush my teeth, wash my face, figure out what the ever-loving heck I’m supposed to do with my hair and so on) before proceeding down to breakfast at the mess hall. 

Orochi is a picky little eater so we would need to head there early to claim some hard-boiled eggs before the rest of the sleep-deprived-coffee-deprived scientist zombies come stumbling down. Then the morning is a matter of learning in a stable, non-hostile environment where kaa-chan or Yasu obasan would pull favours or create some to get Hikaru and I some education while one of them may go on a mission. Lunch is whenever we agree on the urge to eat, and we’ll head back to the mess hall where the chefs  _ may or may not _ be concocting edible matter. For the sake of our sanities, I’ll just assume they were. 

The afternoon would then be filled with physical training, Orochi sometimes watching from the sidelines while learning how to read via the partner of whoever was pounding Dōsukēru and I into the ground. Sometimes it would be sparring (like today), sometimes it would be throwing practice, and sometimes random other stuff like strengthening exercises or speed runs.

There was something distinctly satisfying about still being able to outrun Hikaru despite his longer legs, even without chakra-enhancing all and sundry.

Dōsukēru wasn’t able to out speed Kuroryuu though, a fact that the black serpent never let her forget with his overly-polite jabs at her speed.

I think she evens out all possible odds when she’s allowed chakra though, her wall-crawling is the fastest in our group of kids and snakes.

After a clan supper, announcements are made by our leader and whoever wanted to show off something that they found relevant, then we all head back to our chambers to rest off our meals. I just end up meditating or trying out various chakra control exercises under the hawk-like glare of kaa-chan and Yasu obasan, I think they want to start me on chakra strings after I can rotate senbon without touching them.

Of course, those are the days where the clan wasn’t on the road and was in the clan compound, underground in all the stone tunnels sealed within scrolls specifically packed by our leader and every individual member of the clan.

Right, there was also gag training before breakfast, when I didn’t have stuff in my stomach other than some mouthfuls of water. Fun.

Swung onto kaa-chan’s back and out of my mental wanderings, my grip remained tight on my twin daggers. Perhaps my hands were clenched so tight that by the time the one hour of hell was over, I couldn’t open them anymore? That would be the logical assumption as the same occurrence has happened daily for the past couple weeks. At least, they  _ were _ held in my hands until I channeled what I hoped to be a semi-decent amount of chakra needed to activate the tattoo of a snake spread across the tops of my palms. The smoke that was released rather blatantly told me that I still plugged in too much chakra. 

Oh well, with nearly none of my physical yang chakra left, my yin was overbalanced anyways. Perks of being a soul that’s living a second time I suppose, I get a brain working in overdrive ( _ coughveryveryscatterbrainedcough _ ) as soon as my yin chakra is a certain threshold above that of my yang chakra. Thankfully the meditation exercises prescribed to me by our clan’s resident chakra master, aka one of our paranoid/mad medic-nins helped me expand my yin chakra in a way that could actually help. As in, meditate and try to gradually modify my mind-scape. If not to help, well, plugging in too much chakra into seals like storage seals just result in chakra smoke, so why the hell not?

Originally my mind-scape was just a tiny grove of midget trees surrounding an even smaller, still-water pond, an abnormally large pile of water-proof papers filling up the pond in place of silt and fish or other aquatic life. Meditation somehow allowed me to grow the trees so now instead of saplings up to my waist, they became young trees that can just barely clear my head. Not much considering I wasn’t even a meter tall, but progress is always made of small steps and a lot of (perhaps) metaphorical fertilizer.

The pages upon pages of paper in the pond, however, I’m not gonna touch with a ten-meter pole, or at least until the water stops trying to drag me under everytime I try to approach. If my mindscape is the thing that kills me a second time, then I’ll be spending the entirety of my third life in embarrassment.

I shook thoughts of meditation out of my mind, it can be un-ignored later when I actually do need to do so. Which is not now. 

Hands finally empty, I twitched my stiff fingers and mused how handy it was that the tenketsu at the base of my four fingers can be linked up to power this seal. I’ll never understand seals, but tenketsu are effing amazing.

True, seals can alter reality (hello storage seals, I’m doing fine, why didja ask?) but the tenketsu contained within all sentient creatures can pretty much take the icing on the cake. Last life, there were always these occasional reports of “oh, this dude can bend a spoon with his brain” or “massages are good for your chi/qi” whatever, but they were all based on superstitions and hearsay, if that. Now, humans are  _ born _ with the capability of defying physics by channeling (and isn’t that an interesting word?) chakra into feet and walking up walls. 

It’s granted that without a stabilized, working chakra network all of that isn’t possible, but even hiring a genin team in a village, or asking your adult ninja neighbor can ensure that a civilian can experience what is considered “flying” or “moving at the speed of demons” or of the like.

Basically everything is possible with seals and chakra, but to use chakra one has to have developed and trained tenketsu. 

Guessing from some fragments of memory, I suppose the leaf exercise done by ninjas in academies and such are all to strengthen the chakra pathways and to, in a rather elementary way, teach the students how to channel chakra into the outside world where it would be then swayed to try to return to nature. Then the tree-walking exercise is just the next step, where the genin are to learn how to judge the amount of chakra required for any and each step. Water-walking would be the final mandatory (and disguised) test, where the children are to grasp the connections between just sticking oneself onto a surface with passive circulation of chakra outside of tenketsu against the needed chakra that is to spread out via feet to, for better lack of a word, “bind” the water under one’s feet so as to stay standing.

All very basic chakra manipulation outside the body, and completely unlike the chakra one uses to enhance muscles (can’t have muscles sticking together, can we?).

After some very painful trial and error (and a curious, bright-eyed Orochi watching me), I was able to channel enough chakra across the top of my knuckles to “monkey-bar” my way across the ceiling. At least, I would’ve if Yasu obasan hadn’t come in at the right time for my feet to dangle right in front of her face.

Apparently attaching weights to the ceiling when we  _ bloody lived underground _ was not a wise idea. Who knew? 

(Not me, according to my somewhat incensed aunt.)

“Now let’s get you twerps off to supper.”

With a startled squeak, Orochi was picked up by the collar of his pale violet yukata and gently tossed over kaa-chan’s other shoulder. She also adjusted her grip on me so that instead of hanging like a very pale kitten, I was tucked under her arm.

_ Even after an hour of pound-Suijami-into-the-ground _ …

And thus, it is demonstrated how broken the ability to use chakra was. 

I basically kept my head down the entire journey from the underground, sand covered training room all the way to the equally underground mess hall. We passed a couple people along the way, and none of them seemed really surprised at seeing kaa-chan lugging around her two kids while Manda trailed after with two other snakes resting on him.

In fact, a couple of my fellow clansmen (whether by blood or by marriage, because I’m quite sure bronze skin and white-blond hair isn’t naturally native to my clan) ended up walking with us. It was time for clan supper after all, and no one is allowed to be absent unless there’s a decent excuse. 

The mood was more or less rather light-hearted as our group merged with another headed in the same direction, and once we arrived at the largest “room” in our compound, the crowd included over twenty people of various ages.

“Why’s everyone so sad looking?” Someone needs to tell Orochi that whispering does not work when the person you’re whispering to is farther than the person that shouldn’t be hearing whatever needs to be whispered.

That said, I looked up at his prompting, away from my self-appointed chore of counting feet to determine the size of our supper-seeking mob, and was silently frozen by the mournful mood present.

Shit.

Orochi’s too young for this.

Our crowd thinned as everyone went to find a spot to sit at one of the dozen semi-circle tables (four quarters of three concentric circles, each individual table separated from its neighbors by two meters of walking space) surrounding a large table turned central pedestal. What used to be a room large enough for a clan of over a hundred members to simultaneously free-for-all buffet suddenly seeming rather claustrophobic. 

Claustrophobia is  _ not _ fun when you ended your previous life in a metal box that fell from great heights,  _ crushing and puncturing metal – _

Stop. Full stop. That was over six years ago and –

_ Whoever the hell can get over their own death is an admirable person that is not me. _

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Actually, just  _ breathe. _

Either kaa-chan noticed my pause in breathing, or she just wanted to reassure her midgets, but she gave both of us a comforting squeeze before following into the room. Generally, people are frantic to get into one of the rows closer to the center, so that they could get to the food as soon as the announcements are over, or so that they wouldn’t have to step around as many chairs. 

Today, the rows furthest away from the source of food was occupied before the centered four tables even had a single person.

I’ve witnessed this happen exactly four times, the first was shortly after the ambush that ended with tou-chan dead. The second one being taken place when an entire patrol of Kinme’s and all but one of their partners returning lifeless. The third, somehow just as painful as the others, occurred when one of the enfants (she was but a baby…) managed to crawl in the summons realm before she had enough chakra, the ceremony to summon her over to the elemental nations claiming all of her chakra, and when that wasn’t enough, her too-young life.

The fourth was also for a mission (bounty-hunting the adults had whispered) that had gone dreadfully wrong. The clan had only found out that the assassination team was obliterated when one of the messenger summons had appeared in the compound and announced the dimming of three names on the summoning contract, accompanied by three glass oblong caskets.

Whenever the podium is situated in the center of the mess hall, it no longer can be considered a place to feast, but a private chamber of our clan (now barely a hundred strong) to mourn the dead.

(The Shinobi War had already passed, why did they need to die?)

Considering our clan and our annoying sense of logic (and practicality), there are always the exact number of chairs as there are clan members. However, when someone new arrives, they are given one by the one that invited them in. But when someone dies, none of the chairs are taken away until after everyone has had a chance to acknowledge their death.

Once everyone had funneled in and seated themselves, (I sat meekly in mine, while Orochimaru peered around in suppressed curiosity, the atmosphere must’ve gotten to him to not ask his ‘why’s). 

But the two people I was waiting on never entered, my ability to sense chakra now at a radius of about twenty-five meters, far larger than the radius of the mess hall, which is approximately twenty. 

No matter how I strained my senses, or how much I combed through the chakras of the clansmen present, I could not feel them nor their partners. 

Then I felt a spark just along my senses, pricking at the podium where a large seal for reverse-summoning had been carved.

The chakra pulsed, once, then twice, the glows that accompanied each flash dulled by the smoke emitted by the consecutive summonings. Faint sobbing could be heard.

_ No. Nonononono. _

Nobody disturbed the smoke, not even the clan leader. She just stood off to the side, her companion curled around her shoulders like a venomous scarf.

As the chakra-laced smoke slowly dissipated, Each of my heartbeats thudded louder and louder in my chest, until it was the sole sound vibrating in my ears. 

I didn’t even dare to move, not even to try to glance at the two empty spots next to me.

As the smoke finally thinned enough for sensing to not be blanketed, the sparks of chakra that I could suddenly feel could only be described as grieving. There was only two.

Then Orochi froze, his chakra twisting in a way that a once innocent child’s shouldn’t, and he let out a muffled sob covered by chubby hands. Knowing just enough to not crumble off his seat (or maybe it was Sugiryuu, who held my little otouto in place), he slumped into his chair.

He was only two.

And she was a mother.

Yasu obasan slept peacefully in her egg of glass, young little Kuroryuu coiled in an elegant spiral resting on her lap. 

Her son sobbed along with a silently weeping snake, both curled up against each other in a mockery of the tranquil picture tucked within the glass egg.  

* * *

The day that I lost my aunt and the day that Hikaru lost his partner was the day that I realized how Manda became Orochi’s primary summons.

A tidbit about our clan is that we don’t really give any shits about privacy. I mean, barging into someone’s chambers just because they were late for supper? Seen it, also done it. Walk into a training room to practice my (dreadful) shuriken aim, I just might see a fellow clansmen on the ground, trying to twist themselves into a new pretzel (For science!). Then of course, there’s the teens everywhere in the compound as they try to woo each other or something in the most scientific way as possible (their puns  _ suck _ , as in  _ have you been working with copper and tellurium? Because you’re looking very CuTe today _ ).

The only reason mentioning the above is relevant is because everyone was with Hikaru when he grieved. Yes, we gave him space when it was needed, but he’s only  _ six _ , too young to witness the death of his mother ( _ an aunt who should’ve come home, lighting someone’s coat-tail on fire and not in a glass coffin _ ) and who should’ve been his lifelong partner ( _ too young, was this why Hashirama dreamed of peace?) _ .

(At least they were able to come home, even if not in one piece.)

He cried on a lot of shoulders and chests and backs, left his tears in clothing of every shape and size.

A child just lost his mother and our clan is not one to abandon their own.

A week after the event that took Yasu ( _ the kind, pyromaniac aunt who let me cry into her injured side during the ambush _ ) from us ( _ three children (one not) who viewed her as a first or second mother _ ) and stole the luster of Kuroryuu’s scales, our clan leader sat Hikaru on the pedestal and asked Ume whether she would accept Hikaru as her second summoner.

The agreement was mutual. The ink lines along the insides of Hikaru’s thin, thin forearms became another bridge to the cave of snakes.

No one commented on the unshed tears held by our leader’s eyes.

(We respect her  _ far  _ too much for that.)

* * *

Unsurprisingly, kaa-chan pretty much adopted Hikaru. The three of us tiny ninja-wannabes had been raised together since the death of my tou-chan, but back then at least Yasu obasan could cycle shifts with my kaa-chan. Now that she’s… gone, all the economical problems fell on kaa-chan who has to earn enough to feed three kids, their partners, herself and Manda,  _ and _ provide everyone with enough weaponry so that nobody will come home in a glass egg.

I still try to sharpen kunai to earn pocket money, and Hikaru had also joined me in doing so. Orochi was the best behaved child one could wish for, sitting quietly or trying to converse with Sugiryuu, he would even stumble around to try to help us organize the sharpened kunai in bundles, me telling him a number and him trying to follow. In return, I would teach him simple kanji,  hiragana and katakana, or rather just mainly the kanji that I have figured out by “testing” the newly sharpened kunai on some convenient pieces of wood. Books and scrolls are useful in this regard, and even seals with very precise kanji. (For instance, explode.)

Hikaru would occasionally try to help with Orochi’s teachings, but the semi- or full-on orphans of my clan are generally passed from clan member to clan member to learn stuff. The (too-buff) chefs would teach us the basics of what is usually edible, the blacksmiths would teach us how to properly sharpen kunai and protect our weapons, the “merchants” would sort of teach us how to haggle. For a price, of course.

I suppose this is what happens when you’re born to ninjas, growing up when childhood wasn’t supposed to be just a dream and learning how to survive at the age of five.

Amidst all the grief and pain that spiraled into our lives like an off-kilter helicopter, I also received my piano.

Received as in the damn thing was plopped in a seal on my door.

I almost smashed it when I first unsealed it, not accidentally either. 

_ Who gives a mourning family an instrument prototype? _

But then again…

“So big!” Orochi clapped, eyes wide as saucers, Hikaru also having his mouth dropped open.

Dōsukēru leant over and hissed in my ear, “is this the ‘piano’ that you’ve been missing?”

She never forgot that I was reborn, despite me barely out of the crib when I first told her. Maybe it was a constant reminder when I tried to teach us (the kiddy sextet) the rest of the English language? So far, out of the six of us, Ume is the only one who didn’t even have a decent grasp of the language. Well, she isn’t capable of speaking anymore though… Willingly or due to physical reasons, I won’t ever ask her, even if the question burns just a bit below my left collarbone.

“... Yes. This is a piano.” If I sounded a bit flat, who was to comment?

The relic from my last life stood a total of a meter and a half, just a couple increments larger than what I had designed so long ago. The wood was unsmoothed, and just a bit grainier that what is normal, but when I opened the fall board, I could barely muffle the sob that nearly tore itself out of my throat. Just a bit below my eye level was in total, eighty-eight keys, most white, and some black. 

How the different shades of red transferred to the colouring the piano now had, I will never understand, but I was thankful.

And so,  _ so _ furious.

The relic (because it was  _ only _ a relic) was solely coloured white and black, two shades of colour that cannot be associated with ninja life, and another contrast that screamed to me what I lost when I ...died. It reminded me of everything I can no longer have (a full set of parents, formal education, and the  _ freedom _ of living without wondering about the deaths that the next day may bring), but it also sang out to me.

“It’s beautiful,” whispered a nowadays nearly silent Hikaru. 

“What do these iron footholds do?” Of course Sugiryuu would ask the questions when Orochi wouldn’t.

“Yeah, give it a whirl Suija-chan!” Ha, maybe my partner was a bit too eager sometimes, although she is usually a bit more composed…

I sniffled, and gave everyone present a watery grin. Gently extracting my pant leg from Orochi’s grasp, I announced to my family (minus two) “why not? It’s been a while.”

It's been awhile since I really smiled, and realized that even if the world was no longer black and white, sound is constant, and so are the people around me. This is my world now (along with everything I was ever taught) and gods damn it, I’ll dance between the flat-normal-sharp keys as much as I need to balance my family.

* * *

The piano sucked.

I can’t believe I didn’t take in account the physics (of all things) when I reinvented the piano. The strings are a certain length for a reason, as are the thickness and the changes in the numbers of wires. Not to mention the kami-damned dampers! I  _ can’t _ believe I forgot to put them in.

The first trial was a disaster, none of the keys sounded right (at least they still had seven notes per scale?) and all of the notes lasted long after I let them go (damn you missing damper).

Thankfully, it only took a couple  _ more _ months to re-create an actual piano once we arrived in Uzushio. Seals are handy things, as in, they  _ simplified _ so much. A base seal in the body of the piano ensured that it could continuously sap out bits of chakra to fuel itself and it was then linked to sound-muffling seals and amplifier seals. They could be activated through force by pumping the pedals and it would either dampen the sound, apply better dynamics, or just drain away notes that shouldn’t be held.

Of course, the actual seals are much more complicated than that but I wasn’t a seal mistress, was I?

However, a month before I turned six, the piano was finally complete and I could start to “write” music for the instrument.

Due to piano being a non-violent exercise of fingers, it took up a chunk of time before lunch. It had taken nigh on  _ forever _ to figure out the sequences of the scales again but they were worth it. At least I can do some rudimentary practice before trying to transcribe any song from Before, or for now, just the most basic (and therefore most easily remembered).

But for now…

“ _ Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday my dear Oro-chi-maru… Happy Birthday to you~” _


	12. Suna be Good, Suna be Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is near exactly what the title says, and the word count is too damn much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto  
> Warnings: Ninja culture, world building, swearing, bits'o'violence, and... cliffhanger

As it turns out, six years old was the minimum age for a person to be ‘legally’ allowed to work and earn an income in my clan. This included small missions which involved me venturing out the relative safety of the clan’s compound, which were also thankfully financially a step up from those tedious tasks I did before. All those errands I completed, many of which included passing along messages, sharpening of weapons and the copying of scrolls (eventually becoming so repetitive that even Orochi ends up nodding off on my shoulder, despite how much it’s good practice and overall pretty informative).

Honestly, I’m unsure what to think after Kaa-chan suddenly ditched me on the doorstep of the clan’s merchant sector. Barely even a ‘good look’ was given as she shot down the corridor with two limp midgets carried under her arms, both seeming to imitate a sack of shocked potatoes with the ease of practiced pros  _ The traitors... _ . Still slightly reeling, I remained speechless as she shunshin’ed out of sight.

_ Orochi’s going to be sad that I couldn’t help him with his reading _ , I thought absentmindedly. He was so invested in those old fairy tales I had jotted down within my notebook. Veering off the previous train of thought, I hoped no one would be able to decipher the odd symbols it contains or assume it’s another language, thankfully it’s securely sealed into my arm. Shifting slightly, I couldn’t help but be grateful that she left me with someone I knew, or some measure of “knowing” anyways. 

I rubbed the spot around my eyes where the clan marking were located, and sighed in slight exasperation (N: or would it be irritation?). Dōsukēru hissed softly in amusement, hidden beneath the light brown cloak I adorned. Strangely these were all the rage in Suna, who knew?

Knocking on the door, I called out Hisao-san’s name before patiently waiting outside his residence. After a few moments I began to wonder if Kaa-chan left me here too early, maybe he wasn’t even awake yet? Mentally, I exclaimed a sarcastic ‘Ha’, as if that could happen, they’re all ninja’s after all. Even if he was a ‘nerdy merchant ninja’ instead of the diehard ‘science nerds’ that seem to be so prominent within our clan.

I was jolted out of my thoughts as the door opened, there was barely even a warning before a scruffy black haired man stood in its frame, with deceptively thin, wire frames balanced upon the bridge of his nose. As he yawned, seemingly carefree if not coming off outwardly as a little rude, I could tell he hadn’t had his morning coffee yet.

_ Coffee. The one thing that the clan never fails to stock up on when in River or Rain country. _

Therefore when I conveniently held out a shatter resistant mug filled with caffeinated goodness, the man grinned gratefully before chugging the whole thing (inwardly, I was surprised at how none was spilt). Mouth still open in preparation to warn him of the contents temperature (perhaps a little belatedly), he burped out a tendril of fire which did an elegant swirl (show off) in the air before fading into the air conditioned halls that connected everyone in this compound.

“How did you create the fire without any hand signs, Hisao-san?”  _ I love it when Dōsukēru reads my mind while I’m speechless. _

The man grumbled good-naturedly, the caffeine boost making him more responsive already. ‘Trade secret’ was his slightly indulgent answer, followed by a discreet flare of his chakra. It was still enough for me to catch on.

His golden eyes narrowed in thinly veiled amusement, probably sensing that I had taken this as a personal challenge, and quite correctly as well.

It seemed Kaa-chan had been bragging to others in the clan about my advanced chakra sensing abilities, though it’s only good enough when the source is close by. (I swear the rate of detection dropping exponentially the further away the source is, rendering the skill useless for ranged chakra tracking).

Being this close to the fluctuation allowed me to closely observe his chakra flow. The steady flow as he drew the energy from his core towards his throat and into the mouth, forming a thin coating under the skin which  _ flickered _ (possibly semi-permeable, or perhaps completely solid?). I had noticed that chakras always have a unique feeling associated with different beings, even while remaining dormant it leaves an imprint on the user's body. The sensations felt on other beings vary, and could be as distinct as the soft, gusting feel of a delicate sparrow or the solidity of groundedness of a deep-buried earthworm.

What Hisao-san had kindly demonstrated for me was a rudimentary chakra exercise that all the Kinme children are taught by their guardians, one that assisted us in maintaining our body temperature by forming a layer of insulating chakra just beneath our skin. This though, while similar to those exercises was different due to the shimmering surface it presented, and how tantalisingly close it was to becoming elemental chakra. 

From this demonstration, I presume his primary affinity must be fire, which isn’t surprising as it’s the most dominant elemental affinity possessed by our clan as a whole. .

The Kinme clan’s affinities are rather diverse, probably due to our nomadic tendencies and therefore the nature chakra that is causally absorbed by everything manifests differently. 

Despite our current long stay within Wind country, the clan preferred to stay on the fringes of Fire country due to the agreeable temperatures. Over the years this has impacted the balance of the clan’s elemental affinities, with a large portion being fire natured, with lightning coming second, then earth, water and wind in order of availability.

The elemental affinity percentages also seem to be affected by how well our own survival depends on them, as we do better in warmer temperatures having a fire affinity seems logical.

Clan specialists theorise that wind and water affinities within the clan are rare as they impact positively on us less, especially since water tends to be located in colder environments.

Kinme’s as a whole never cope well in cooler temperatures, which also contributes to why our clan rarely, if ever, crosses into the Snow country. Like other ninja’s, we can also develop a secondary elemental affinity, especially when enough training is done. Weaknesses can also be compensated by gaining control over another affinity, by increasing a ninja’s arsenal more than what the enemies might suspect.

The ninja merchant noticed the slight widening of my eyes as they were subconsciously tracking the path his chakra took. With an exaggerated hand motion, Hisao-san pushed his glasses further onto his hooked nose, before musing out loud.

“Was that supposed to be hot?” continuing by exclaiming an obviously fake gasp of realisation.

“Oh dear, my old nerves must be failing me”.  _ Subtle, these nerd are not. _

Realising that, I once again got lost in my own thoughts, and concluded he must have understood my unasked question from before I become so engrossed in his chakra parlour trick.

Perhaps Hisao-san was once a field medic, perhaps it’s just a resistance, or perhaps he managed to numb his nerves somehow.  _ Would it involve manipulating his chakra to absorb the heat radiating from the liquid and spreading it out to minimise any negative impact? _ I wondered, or maybe it also combines medical chakra techniques to heal any additional burns caused. Well at least it would certainly be a good wake-up call along with the caffeine.

I attempted to suppress a shiver. And failed, miserably.

_ This merchant can use chakra to numb his nervous system and heal his insides while still delirious from sleep deprivation. _

I finally thought of the realistic chances of how well the mission could turn out now.

_ I’m actually not going to be as fucked as I originally thought.  _

* * *

_ Ah. Kami dammit. Someone save me from this insanity. _

Hisao-san’s partners, an adorably tangled nest of what appeared to be threadsnakes, were all hiding around his neckline and within his hair, one of them even pretending to be an earring at some point (or it could just be an oddly coloured piece of earwax, who knew?). But despite the protection of riding on the merchant’s body, even they couldn’t escape this  _ bloody wind  _ that unfortunately blew sharp specks of sand in every direction, but  _ away _ !

It made my first mission out the security of the compound  _ that _ much harder, considering we were travelling through the middle of a fricking desert while running towards Suna. Goddamn it, the Village was over three hours away from our temporary clan compound (which was unsealed underneath a sand dune).

It didn’t help that whenever I began to lag behind due to my still inefficient dune running, I was carried around like a sack of rotten produce, or perhaps a better choice would be in a similar way to a hot potato as the teens were also capable of lugging my sorry ass around..

At least we were almost there by the time the heavier winds came in, thank Kami for small miracles. 

Our other travelling companions consisted of a couple other Kinme members; two teenage girls who specialized in chemistry and dabbled in the art of poisons, and a boy who was outwardly slightly more youthful in appearance than the girls but was already one of the chef’s apprentices. For all of them, their partners were either coiled within their sleeves or sheltering in the cloaks. 

I regret questioning the necessity of the cloaks earlier, these things are a literal  _ godsend _ against the evil flying sand particles, no wonder they are so popular here.

Since I sucked in recalling people’s names, I inwardly named the taller black-haired teenage girl ‘Arsenic’, the shorter girl with chin length hair the same shade as that of the taller girl was thus dubbed ‘Nightshade’. This finally left the chubby, golden-eyed, Ishval-looking boy, who I decided to nickname ‘Scar’, despite his visible lack of one. Overall, a fairly efficient system, if only  _ somewhat _ misleading.

As a six year old, I didn’t have a very impressive body weight. Even when throwing in my partner Dōsukēru (who pretty much gets a free ride everywhere), the pair of us can still easily be carried around. Therefore, Hisao-san ended up with us for the most part when we couldn’t handle running in the storm (in my mind he seemed to be imitating a papa penguin doting over its brood to shield them from harm). The teenagers could just tough it out, they have good enough chakra control, they’ll live.

Instead of the half an hour that it should’ve taken for us to reach Sunagakure’s walls (or so I overheard from Nightshade who was conveniently complaining to Scar), it took us an additional hour and a half, extremely annoying because by the time we  _ finally _ arrived, the sandstorm had subsided and the sun was shining proudly in the sky attempting to burn our pale Kinme skin ( _ no _ , I told myself, _ the sun isn’t mocking us _ ). So as the time reached  _ gonna-burn-up-some-Kinmes time _ , otherwise known as Noon, it has roughly taken 4 hours to get here, since we departed at around 8am. So  _ bloody 12 noon _ , fun.

Honestly, that was probably the first and last time I would ever be able to be happy seeing the walls of the Village Hidden in the Sand.

Defended on all sides by walls perhaps over a hundred meters high and as thick as an underfed plateau, it would be impossible to enter from anywhere other than the two entrances positioned equally through the walls, one of them mimicking a giant canyon and the other but a slit in the wall. 

Unless of course, the invader was a crazy bomber that’s capable of flight and can basically ignore the natural defenses of pretty much every single hidden village. Actually, Deidara was/is/will be(?) seriously a bit overpowered. Being one of the very few capable of flight at many heights –therefore out of range of many weapons – and also be able to create explosives out of clay that can  _ expand on demand _ into  _ moving creatures _ makes him the equivalent of a bomber jet in this feudal-like era.

Point is, that kid is overpowered and so is the rest of the Akatsuki, whom I’ll probably meet sometime in this lifetime. Shit.

“–jami-chan? Dōsukēru-chan, can you get the attention of your human idiot?” 

An amused hiss filtered out from somewhere inside my cloak and then there was suddenly a slight sting on my right wrist, breaking me out of my musing. Thanks gods for immunity to my partner’s poison, I like not living in agony very much.

Tensing my arm against the instinctive flinch that would’ve ended up with Dōsukēru flung out into the open, I settled for a flick of my fingers that tickled her nose instead and glared back at Hisao Kinme, who just released a peeved looking bird?

Oh well, ninjas are weird.

“Sorry Hisao-san, I couldn’t catch what you just said, can you please repeat it?” At least my manners are intact, no use in provoking the man that will supply our group with most of the everything we’ll need for the rest of the week.

I couldn’t catch his grumble, but he continued in a louder tone “follow closely while we go through, then when I put up our clan’s stand, you can choose to stay around and help me run errands which I will pay you for, do something of your own to earn yourself money, or follow one of these three to help them do whatever they were tasked to do. Return to me before–” que him checking the position of the sun “– a sphere of fire can drop past sea level.”

So basically follow closely, learn, earn pocket money through some way, feed myself on my own earned money, learn some more, and return before sunset? The implied  _ be careful so that your kaa-chan won’t skin me for skinning you _ went unsaid along with the  _ learn whatever bloody hell you can _ , but even then? Can do, definitely can do.   


* * *

The administration process was somewhat simple, just a check in at the gate with our purpose, our names, a brief pat down where we all removed our visible weapons (seals were mostly ignored, as they couldn’t identify which ones were actually seals), a brief rundown of what the merchant would be trading (some bribing went on behind backs, I’m quite sure), and a couple soft sounding but obvious  _ kais _ demonstrated that Suna guards actually check for genjutsu before letting in week-long visitors.

Then the three teens disappeared and it was all I could do to cling at Hisao-san’s cloak before the crowd at the gateway swallowed us, apparently the sandstorm did more than delay our arrival. I could feel Dōsukēru inside my sleeve, her coils just a bit too tight to be comfortable, but nothing else could portray her apprehension, or her appearance for that matter. My nose wrinkled at the smell, sweat and the noon desert sun is never a pleasant combo, and all the chakra infused into the air also felt incredibly heavy. 

Even if Suna shinobi are mainly wind-natured (developed wind-nature feels light and whippy, but a bit sharp, and only when not actively restrained), it didn’t mean that other ones didn’t appear. In fact, the only ones that seemed rare would probably have been lightning or water, the latter for obvious reasons and the former, I have no idea, perhaps it was due to lightning country being on the other side of the goddamn continent?

Another fact that felt uncomfortable was that all of the threadsnakes that adorned Hisao-san’s head had all but vanished, the absent serpents somehow leaving him looking surprisingly bare. In the few times I’ve seen him, he was never without his snakes, and all of them out of sight was a large enough difference for me to realize,  _ oh, Suna might not be so friendly _ . 

Suddenly the trip seemed a bit more ominous than I had originally thought, and a bit more mission-like than previously assumed.

The marketplace was not far, just a quarter-hour casual stroll away from the gate, but even then the trek there attracted many stares. (And sometimes even a faint trace of killing intent.)

Despite wearing the customary hood and cloak that was relatively native to Suna, the absence of face cloths and our strange colouring attracted too much attention. Whispers trying to be discrete were anything but, even if my hearing only allowed me to identify that we were the target of the stares and future gossip.

If Dōsukēru wasn’t hidden inside my cloak, I wonder how the people of Suna would react to a blue snake curled around an odd-looking child. 

Probably not nicely, if Gaara was maltreated for a demon that wasn’t even visible.

This however, was my first time in a Major Hidden Village, nomad clan neutrality and all that. It didn’t matter when it was one of the smaller ones, case in point, the village in Uzushio, but spending too much time in any one Hidden Village results in suspicions from all the others, which, is not good for our health. At all. But as our clan bases ourselves in Suna, it is not surprising that they would welcome us a  _ bit _ more than the others, Kinme technology is pretty amazing, just like the rudimentary metal detectors that I  _ may _ have taken notice of at the gates. 

Out of all the countries in the Elemental Nations, Wind country, Whirlpool country, and the village of Takumi ( _ I think _ ) generally benefits the most from the Kinme’s nomad tendencies. Of course, random trading posts located throughout our route also results in innovations and technology being spread and Uzushio’s alliance with Konoha is also rather beneficial to their tech advancements, but half the time Kinmes are attacked is due to the opposition wanting some sort of tech, or science, or whatever that particular Kinme was working on at the time. Or ransom, if they could get their hands on a child. (They never come back.)

It’s also common knowledge that a Kinme seals all of their research notes into a seal on themselves, just so that it’s a  _ bit _ more convenient when something is thought up and there’s no paper on hand. 

It is also the very same reason that all the Kinmes’ bodies are recovered by the Snake clan whenever possible, as spreading advanced science into a man-murder-man world is never a good idea. That said, the notes of tou-chan… were somewhere home, left to gather dust until one of our family members decides to continue his legacy, and Yasu obasan’s were hidden somewhere with Hikaru. The notes were always given to the next of kin, human or snake matters not.

As a side note, the White Snake Sage hoards knowledge like a dragon hoarding gold, half of the “blemishes” on his scales are actually storage seals that contains extra copies of research notes. 

The stall that Hisao-san eventually dragged me to forty-five minutes later was much more than a stand, in fact, it was more of a medium-sized shop with a storage and two bedrooms upstairs. The insides were cream coloured like the rest of the village, and was built a bit like an igloo, also like the rest of the village. An igloo in the desert,  _ ha _ , I think I can appreciate the irony. Three long tables stretched across the room, and shelves of different sizes decorated the walls, evidently the craft of some other Kinme. Perhaps this is our clan’s permanent outpost in Suna? It would make sense considering that whenever we were close enough, at least one of the merchants would come to the village and sell products and concepts. This week was Hisao-san’s turn, and next week would be one of the other merchants.

I watched as the freckled merchant pulled out scroll, after scroll, after goddamn scroll, and I wondered,  _ is that cloak made of Hagrid’s moleskin pouch? _

If that wasn’t enough, he then dislocated his jaw with nary a click, before pulsing chakra to the seal in his throat, his hand already positioned  _ inside _ his jaw so that it would catch the 10 x 10 x 10 black cube without being contaminated by saliva. The stretchiness of our clan’s skin is  _ really _ scary when chakra is actively channeled through it.

The black box is also somewhat unique to our clan, if only because the Uzumaki has one that is more ornate with a larger colouring range, and  _ much _ larger, but their premise is the same.

They are all capable of being sealed into a storage seal, while being the container of other storage seals.

A soft touch and the briefest hint of Hisao’s smoldering chakra lead to the little box splitting open along its seams and exposing coils of bound paper in a fashion similar to binders. 

Yup, storage seals in binder form then stored in another specialized 2D tattoo. Snake nomads and redheads are awesome nerds.

* * *

Three hours and four errands later, I crumpled into a seat in the Kinme shop with a whine. Despite having earlier providing me with the option of running off to do whatever I can to earn money (and knowledge), the  _ slave _ driver of a merchant decided that I should help him run some errands. To the Kazekage tower.

I’m a Kinme, meaning neutrality. I’m six, meaning no one would take me actually seriously. I’m weird looking, so everyone either stares, flinches, or is disgusted by my appearance.

Fun.

Not fun.

Not fun at all, especially when I apparently “ _ have the sense of direction equal to that of a tumbleweed _ ”. Thanks kaa-chan, not encouraging at all.

Eight roads span the entire village (four if he Kazekage tower in the middle is not considered an obstacle) and they all center in the same place, like that door thingy in France. The marketplace was in the shape of a ring about halfway between the Kazekage tower and the inner edges of the walls. Getting to the tower was easy, just walk until I find a main road and then look both ways. The way without a bloody wall would be the way to the tower. 

Submitting a D-rank mission request for genin teams was also easy, except for a lineup where civilians were mildly repulsed from me like two particles of similar charges, except they inched away from me due to thinking that I was too different.

Of course, there were people that accepted my being without complaint, the shinobi for one, and then there were the other merchants who commonly travel through the same towns that my clan does. 

In fact, one of the kinder strangers allowed lent me a book to read in the long-ass line. If it wasn’t the same stranger who passed me an ice-cube for me to slip into my sleeves, I think Dōsukēru might’ve suffocated in the heat. I’ve never been more grateful for clan merchants trained in the ways of their clan more, and it’s imaginable the Yuki clan being rather celebrated in Suna.

Their settling in Kiri still made more sense though, as they still required bodies of water to capitalize on their advantages, not to mention the sun must not be good for their skin. (It’s not good for Kinme skin either, but whatever.)

Unfortunately once I arrived in front of a very bored desk chunin, I floundered for words. Thankfully the lady only seemed mildly amused before pointing to the mission scroll that contained both the objectives and the proposed pay that I had forgotten in my sleeve. Whoops.

My poor little blue pal ended having to explain to the chunin that her summoner is an idiot that absolutely  _ despises _ talking to strangers or asking for stuff, which I think is an exaggeration?

The amused chunin just took the scroll when I passed it over and told me that a team should be able to come help the shop in an hour or so.

I barely made it back before the genin team arrived.

In my defense, Dōsukēru was no help at all (the snake was snorting at every alley I got lost in even though her sense of smell was amazing) and everything looked the same. All of the buildings were reminiscent of dune designs that repeatedly occurs in the desert, and the only indications that I already passed somewhere was either the smell (of deliciou food, smoke, public latrines, and the like), or the rare greenery. It didn’t get much better on the market ring, as window shopping wasn’t really applicable in a desert village even if most stalls were portable on a moment's notice.

Point is, I got horribly lost. And that was only the first errand.

Thank kami the other errands were really close by, and I also got decent pocket money out of them. Combined with all the other ryo that I obtained but rarely spent, I had about 72000 ryo, the three errands combined being like a somewhat cheap C-rank mission.

So, “what should I do now?”

Hisao-san shot me a bland look from behind the counter where he was driving the price up for one of the fancier tool-kits put together by clan specialists, armed with wrenches, screwdrivers, nails, liberal amounts of silk tampered with chemicals and chakra, and sticks of glue that would be applicable with just the faintest application of fire-natured chakra. Considering the number of puppet-masters in the village, I wasn’t surprised by the popularity of the kits. What nearly had me do a spit-take before was seeing a  _ young teenaged _ Chiyo an hour ago haggling over the same model, her twin brother ogling over our supply of blood-removal serum. Tou-chan… his research  _ did _ bear fruit, but instead of chakra, he managed to then use a simple combination of compounds to create a serum to remove bloodstain. Kaa-chan only  _ just _ permitted the product to be sold outside of the clan.   

I never really noticed how back in history I was in, even when my unusual existence was screamed at me almost every day in the morning by two young children stumbling into my fuuton “cuz they’re cold”. (I’m usually colder than even he is though, perhaps a holdover from my last life? I’ll be laughing at them for years once they become old enough.)

The merchant held up a hand to stop another bargaining attempt by a veiled ninja before he turned to me.

“Go outside, attract customers, buy stuff, explore, whatever, just come back soon.”

...maybe I’ll leave the buying stuff for later, when I know I can buy everything at once, and when one of the others can come with me.

But how to attract customers? Unless…

Our clan’s scruffy merchant just sighed and rubbed a finger down his clan markings when he heard me drag out the chair I was once slumped on, the screeching earning me a couple more annoyed looks than what my appearance had already warranted.

Just for shits and giggles, I purposely took a longer route (the insufferable look that Hisao-san shot me was priceless, and the amused hissing originating from his hair that scared some customers even moreso), the detour taking me around the table labeled “All Your Ninja Needs for a Hospital Escapade” and a shelf displaying scrolls of various sizes and writing. 

The mentioned table had quite a few shinobi around it, some softly debating whether they should get the box full of poison-testing reagents, the self-binding chakra sling or the box full of Uzumaki-styled chakra pills (that tasted like ramen) while others twiddled with a device that should staple in removable stitches.

Are medic-nin really that scary?

A bit of careful maneuvering on my half allowed me to nudge open the door and push out the chair, and another nudge closed it. Once I had the seat tucked snugly against the sandstone wall, I pressed both hands flat against the almost glass-like path outside our door. A couple Suna nin stopped their way over the rooftops to watch, fingers playing with kunai or a tassel on a beloved weapon, but all of whom I disregarded in favour of pumping enough chakra to push a piano out of a seal into the open.

An over-sized smoke-cloud and a lot of hacking out sand later, I stood proudly beside an imposing looking “up-right” piano.

After months of redesigning and sobbing over details, the piano that can now be considered an instrument was barely what it looked like Before. With liberal amounts of seals and chakra bull crap, the piano stood at an adjustable height, and the part where all the strings would’ve stood in was missing, instead replaced by seals that apparently had a lifetime guarantee (and replicas, if anything did happen). Therefore there was no box thingy that blocked me from seeing over the piano, or people from seeing me. The keys remained unchanged, although there were arguments about how many notes there were in an octave, as in the traditional five versus the piano twelve. I admit, that was an interesting detail that I forgot, and it certainly influenced the first version of how the woodworkers fashioned the instrument.

Just to sum it up, the piano that I landed with now has the sound of a grand piano, packed into that of an electrical/spinet esque size.

The chakra needed to pull a piano out of another dimension was a bit more than what I generally used, so I took a sip of water from a clipped on canteen before clambering onto the chair. Being six also meant I was abysmally short, a fact that does me no good.

Once the ninjas realized that the random clan kid wasn’t planning on unleashing a mass weapon of doom (hmph, as if my reserves will ever be large enough), some of them left on their own business while others stuck around in the shadows, watching both me, and the civilians in this sector of the market.

Deeming the audience ready, I felt my fingers tremble a bit. I never liked playing in front of an audience, pressure is an annoying thing that slug-ifies my fingers.

Whatever. Hisao-san wanted customers, what way better than to demonstrate with something completely new? We’re Kinme, innovation is in our (cold, nerdy,) blood.

He owes me for this though, kaa-chan hasn’t even heard half of the pieces that I can now play (again).

I curled my fingers a couple times, working the stiffness out of their joints (and trying to get excess sand out because sand between keys is gonna be  _ very  _ annoying) and placed my hands across the blocks of black and white.

And–

Ohmagod don’t  _ do _ that Dōsukēru, it tickles, like,  _ way _ too much.

She poked her head out of my sleeve, and in a very dry manner, slithered across the keyboard up to where the stand was, coiling her meter of bulk around a series of poles specially designed for a snake’s perching. (I honestly don’t understand how she can fit under my cloak without anyone noticing.)

I also proceeded to ignore the civilians that tried to very inconspicuously shuffle away. For future references, they were not as stealthy as they seemed.

Two more false starts later, and much to the anticipation of the semi-gathered crowd ( _ hush, Dōsukēru, I need my ego boost for this to work _ ), I allowed my fingers to glide through the scales of C major, the easiest (most annoying) one of the scales. It earned me some twitches from the gathered, but I payed them no heed. Despite the climate of Suna, I still need to warm up my fingers, and fingers twitching too much isn’t good for the pieces that I plan on playing.

But maybe the chords and arpeggios were equally part of me showing off and pissing people off. 

Fingers at six years old definitely  _ aren’t _ as long as those that I used to get to play with…

Well. One more thing to remember the past by, fingers too small to play goddamn octaves. 

(One less thing to remember by once my hands reach the same scale as before, which I don’t doubt they would.)

Ahem. Since it’s January, well.

I’ve never gotten out of the habit of humming Christmas carols, have I?

My partner was suitably amused when a simple tune of Jingle Bells was played, and downright  _ giggled _ (I’ve been traumatized) when my fingers set themselves on course to Let it Snow. I think there were more people gathering at this point, and some people actually approached before stepping back again. 

Like those that feared me, I paid the approachers no heed. It’s been awhile since I played for an audience not consisting of my family.

Of course, White Christmas was then belted out afterwards at an inappropriate tempo (my teacher always insisted I was a speed demon, threaten me with the dreaded metronome, she did), but thoughts of Christmas hit a bit too close to home so my little winter-snow-(Christmas)-themed repertoire ended with a simplified jazz version of Carol of the Bells.

When I looked up again, it was to a crowd that acknowledged me beyond whatever label is slapped onto my clan. 

That, and a pile of ryo notes that Dōsukēru was curled around on the top of my piano.

Oh.

So, attracting customers sort of worked? Hopefully Hisao-san wouldn’t be annoyed if more potential customers stayed outside of the shop rather than in...

Anyhow, I’m hungry. The ryo will be going towards the generous campaign of funding empty stomachs.

* * *

Our stay in Suna was relatively peaceful if you ignore the genin team that had accidentally (I hope) chucked a kunai that I couldn’t dodge and ended up with a six-inch laceration up my right arm. The one silver lining was that the cut didn’t extend to any of the seals I had on my arm, otherwise who knows what would’ve happened? Turns out Hisao-san really  _ was _ a medic in disguise and stitched me up with medical-chakra infused  _ chakra strings? _ I… will never understand this world. Thankfully it wasn’t deep, but even then, it surprised me when I woke up the next day with just the faintest scar.

Everyday in no particular order I would help out at the shop, train, explore after dragging out one of the teens, bury myself in a bookstore/library, play some piano to attract people (and their wallets) for the shop, train, and then proceed to pig out on some of my earnings. Turns out I developed a taste for raw cactus fruits, not surprising considering my palate probably exists of everything. However, the trussed up large,  _ live _ insects that eventually attracted Dōsukēru was in no shape or form something that I would imagine eating. 

Especially the tarantulas, I ended up passing her some ryo so that she could slither up to the stand by herself and buy the spider-things, even though I’m quite sure that she knows about my arachnophobia (long story about me being traumatized Before as a kid).

Weren’t snakes only supposed to eat every couple days? At the most? Scar alway snickered at me when that happened, as I had dragged him out from whatever hole he was working in to find better food. He was the one that suggested spiders, and therefore the one that I will later annoy. 

It was  _ not _ enjoyable, picking the remaining spider bits off of my partner’s fangs. (Why do tarantulas have so much hair?)

There was so much stuff in a legitimate Hidden Village though, and the sheer volume of, of,  _ everything _ bogs my brain. Life in Before was a somewhat small sea-side city in one of the physically largest countries, but there was still more people than probably most Hidden Villages combined as even a high school easily had over a thousand people, but the crowdedness of Suna was… interesting, to say the least. The population density might even be higher here, even if they didn’t have high-rises and apartment buildings.

The people were not as diverse as I had hoped, which makes sense because  _ ninja _ , but it didn’t bode well for possible future international politics. The gossip is pretty decent though, and what a surprise it was to learn that Hashirama had died of an Embarrassing Accident, one so damn embarrassing that some rumours relayed that his brother only became Hokage in order to wipe the records out of every possible archive. 

Well, that and nobody wanted to fill out all the paperwork the first deceased kage leaves behind along with a newborn village, not like Tobirama probably wasn’t doing it anyways.

But… Hashirama, the God of Shinobi, half of the wedded couple that managed to take down Madara plus pissed off Kyuubi? The hell can kill a Kage that almost has regenerative abilities on par with Tsunade and wield chakra like another limb a dude with rinnegan eyes?

Apparently that’s what the gossip mill was for, even if he was the kage of a non-allied Village, some things gets leaked out, no matter how people try to shush up when I’m around. They probably would’ve left altogether if they knew that Dōsukēru’s hearing surpasses most humans’ and could hear them from inside of my cloak. 

It also might not bode well for the future of Orochi and myself, the future where the only Kinme left being Orochimaru had never really left my mind, especially after witnessing the reactions some of our inventions and our appearances garner. And with Suna’s economic slump… Well. Even the Nidaime Kazekage seems a bit against the Kinme, if even I can feel the tension between Hisao-san and the Kazekage during his brief visit to the shop three days into our stay, and wasn’t that chilling, knowing that the only large village we actually stay around for over two months is hostile.

Not to mention the Nidaime Hokage apparently has spurred on Konoha into a period of technological advancement within weeks of taking up the reins, looks like they might be more willing to trade the next time we get to Fire Country.

For some obscure reason, I have a really bad feeling of what might happen after we go back.

And return home we did, with gifts for everyone, even if it’s been quite a while since Christmas. No one can ever object to a bit of holiday cheer can they? Dōsukēru’s input on what gifts to buy were also somewhat entertaining, nothing like the Christmas shopping I did before, but more along the lines of criticizing everything she lays her eyes upon in a whispered hiss next to my ear or randomly pointing her tail out of my sleeve to scare the crap out of a merchant when examining potential gifts.

I also bought sufficient cooking materials to hopefully recreate some cookies, courtesy of a sibling in a time over six years past. Hopefully the clan kitchen won’t burn down on the first try, or second, or… actually, I’ll just cook with supervision (not like it ever helped me Before).

Gifts and possible kitchen bonfires aside, the trek home felt much faster than the way to Suna, as my constitution allowed for more dune-running after a week of practice. (It’s a Kinme trait, they said, our people being able to adapt quicker than most unless cold, even our accents adapt... Apparently numerical data showed a direct correlation, somehow. Who’s to question the human sciences? Certainly not a teen stuck in a six-year-old’s body.) 

I was still carried for most of the trip, and also at a more hurried pace. 

The sun slowly falling below the horizon nonetheless caused my movements to slow also as the cold and lethargy started to set in my veins and bones like a reptile seeking hibernation. We’ll be fine though, since the Uzumaki had aided us with the invention of what amounted to AC seals, ventilation, and just warm air in general.

But the closer we got to home, the more the air felt wrong, sharper in a sense, and cutting like bleed-off of wind-chakra used inefficiently. Being basically cold-blooded ourselves, us Kinme are rather sensitive to temperature and its changes, but we can only barely feel the changes in air pressure. However, our snakes can.

Their agitation showed as every snake on the five of us poked their heads out of the cloaks in a rather synchronized manner, and all pointed towards home.

Home, an underground compound where everything needed to live comfortably is but a few hallways away.

Home, meals in the mess hall (or hell, if another kid accidentally starts a food fight) as a free-for all buffet or quick snacks.

Home, where all the Kinmes are first brought into the Elemental nations, away from the gentle coils of the Snake Clan and where diversity is marveled at as a miracle of evolution.

Home, where the desert had been ripped apart and Suna nin and missing-nin and puppets are gutting my clan, my  _ people _ , as the sun sank towards blood-soaked sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> I've nearly caught up to the actual chapters now, so expect updates to slow, and yeah...  
> Oh, and someone teach me how to tag worth a damn, thank you very much in advance?  
> Please leave a comment on the way out! They are love!


	13. When the Match Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone is panicking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto  
> Warnings: Swearing, death (lots and lots of death bwahaha), gore, blood, sad thoughts, compartmentalization, etc.  
> Beta-ed by MadameGuillotineTheSeraph (same with the previous few chapters)

Flames seemed to almost lick the overcast sky in pitiful bursts, its roar drowned out by the sheer cacophony of howling wind, certainly a contrasting scene compared to the desperate battles going on below.

I stood there on the crest of a low sloping sand dune, still garbed in the traditional Suna cloak, as I detachedly watched the Kinme clan compound (home, yet  _ so much more _ ), burn. If I tried hard enough, I could almost imagine the chakra backlash from the battle ( _ not massacre, the clan is strong _ ) smothering me _. _

Neither of my female teenage companions uttered a sound, though they didn’t seem shocked, a slightly resigned and frustrated aura radiated from them, their hands entwined together for a semblance of reassurance. Scar however, was straight in contrast to the girls, shaking fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as his chakra seethed with anger ( _ and fear, so much fear _ ). His partner, a pale sand-coloured creature, almost reeked with despair.

Hisao-san only spat out a  _ tch’d _ , though his emotions were still indiscernible to me, as I wouldn’t tear my eyes away from ahead. Then he carefully used his own chakra to cloak all of our signatures, the abrupt absence of our chakras to my senses unbalancing me for all of a second, but the sudden removal of my chakra sense thankfully hadn’t affected my other senses.

Heat still drifted over the horizon from the remnants of a dying sun, the sharp tang of blood permeated the air, and sound of ricocheting metal and explosions were too much, too many contradictions to the mostly peaceful aura associated with my clan, and more importantly home.

Truly, it was like staring at a train wreck ( _ rooted to the spot, unable to run away _ ) as I absentmindedly took notice of a conversation taking place next to me, mainly consisting of furious whispers and repeated negatives.

_ Orochi and kaa-chan and Manda and Hikaru and Sugiryuu and Ume are all down there with everyone else… _

To get to the underground clan compound, it appeared that the Suna nin had ripped open the metaphorical stomach cavity of the desert leaving us bare, as some regions of the sand had been superheated ( _ I thought Suna didn’t have many lightning-natured users… a collaboration? _ ) to the extent of creating fulgurite veins that held the sand away from the battle.

Due to our vantage point, the sun setting to our 8 o’clock, we could clearly observe the process of how the sand was methodically ripped away from the area above the compound previously, and how all of that sand was now shoved into superheated dunes tens of meters tall that surrounded it approximately in a two-hundred meter radius. Shards of glass (fulgurite, my brain supplied unhelpfully) glinted in the remaining piles of sand, the product of the intense heat.

We were sitting ducks, or in this case, fire-breathing cacti rooted to the bottom of an unforgiving desert.

The sole fragment of good news was that our clan was probably warned beforehand, as bodies of dead Suna shinobi littered the slopes that steepened towards our compound. As the Kinme are a clan of enthusiastic scientists, not to mention  _ ninja _ , they can be quite creative with traps, among other preparations when forewarned, though that fact hadn’t relieved me as much as I hoped.

Whatever, if we don’t get to choose the battleground, we’ll just change it to our advantage.

(Hisao-san’s partial bird summons suddenly seemed a bit more important)

Occasionally, bursts of smoke materialize into being, whether they are caused by snakes being summoned, unsummoned, or corpses of precious clan members being retrieved by our partnered snake summons, I will never know.  However a sudden shadow of the few behemoth boas in our company made quite an impressive entrance, as was the golden chakra chains that would flash every few seconds.

Glad to know the Uzumaki is still kicking, to say the least.

And then I realized that the wind from the sudden displacement of air courtesy of the appearance of the no-limbed godzillas was whipping up the hill, a realization that was synchronized with when I heard a particular,  _ purple _ -coloured,  _ black _ -striped, now apparently slightly _ horned _ giant boa roar in despair.

_ Oh. Oh no, nononono not again not again Not Again… _

A strong hand clamped down on my shoulder as I was about to fall backwards and I instinctively flinched. Not even the coils belonging to my partner around my forearm could prevent panic from setting in, it did assist me in regulating my diaphragm so I could breathe properly again. A choice that I most regretted against the stench of battle that the battle had swept up.

**Time set: The week after Yasu Kinme and Kuroryuu’s demise.**

“Kaa-chan, why wasn’t Ume-san with us after –” I choked at the last bit, unable to continue. Yasu-obasan’s death had hit my entire little family rather hard, and the entire clan had mourned alongside us. My cousin had smashed his instrumental contraption thing, because to him apparently the only human that had ever tolerated his playing it had just died. Now he’s somewhere off in the engineering sector, trying to reconstruct another music maker.( _ I hope he doesn’t become too affected her Ume-san’s…permanent absence. Who am I kidding? His  _ mom _ just died. _ )

There are reasons why despite most of us still being ninja, the Kinme considers themselves being more science orientated. It’s only one of the factors, I’m sure, but less casualties definitely played a role in the transition.

Orochi was sleeping, an afternoon nap with Sugiryuu while kaa-chan and I were taking a break from our physical training.

We were resting mainly because, well, there’s a lot of running, dodging, and intense bursts of sparring on my part, while speed training over complicated structures such as dummies on my partner’s part. Manda is a hard couch, apparently, with all of his threats of eating her.

Kaa-chan popped a shoulder back into place after her demonstration on how being able to dislocate her own shoulder can be in a fight, a Kinme trait, I’m sure. She stood silent, as if contemplating whether to answer or not.

I was almost certain she wasn’t going to answer, before the violet-haired woman decided that moment to speak up.

“Summons are... handy.” Was her stilted reply.

That I know of, and so did the rest of my clan, it’s part of why we have been tied to the snakes since… whenever the snakes were first tied to humans. I’ve heard one of the resident “crazies” (despite pretty much all of us being one in some form or other), brag that our clan was the first to contract summons.

Apparently the few Inuzuka I’ve heard about all beg to differ, as well their close allies, the Hatake.

“Yeah, so?”

Kaa-chan seemed a bit conflicted about my question, for what reason I really don’t understand, but she hesitated nonetheless. Perhaps it was her horrible story-telling skills, which inevitably lent itself to her explanations.

She pursed her lips, and put away the katana that she was polishing, the red tassels just a bit frazzled from years of use. Suddenly I realized that my kaa-chan was very young, as in late twenties young.  _ This is what ninja life drove clans to _ , I thought sadly, people living out the entirety of their lives before reaching forty when there’s nothing reassuring a possible tomorrow and many end up dying much earlier.

“Well,” she began, “you know how when you were a baby I signed your name in your blood, umm, on an individual summoning scroll?” Her hands waved everywhere to demonstrate me as a baby (awkward rocking motions with her arms), blood (a thumb scoring alongside her other thumb), and summoning scroll, which goes ‘ka-boom’. No better way to sum that up, with how she randomly slammed her hand into the training room floor.

I still looked at her in deadpan though, first due to Orochi trying to  _ nap _ , and second because  _ come on _ , how was I supposed to remember everything that happened that panicking day when I finally left the summoning realm? It’s not like she knows my memories extend past age three, right?

“Ah. Ha, haha…” her laugh trailed off, hinting her nervousness, before sobering up quickly.

“Anyways, for our entire lives, each Kinme is tied to either an individual or a specific group of summons that almost entirely stays in our world, so our chakra system is linked with theirs, rather permanently.”

_ Ehhh...What _ .

“You’ve seen how Manda can sort of, umm, you know, henge into different sizes, right?” I nodded numbly, missing tou-chan and his skills at convoying more intellectually stimulating conversation.

“It, uhh, occurs because of two main reasons, both of which are quite important and are crucial to both of our continued health. One,” she stuck up a finger, “it’s hard for the human half of the summoning contract to keep a larger summon on this side of the contract, as the chakra it needs increases a lot. And I mean,  _ a lot _ . Summoning works a bit like friction, you know? There’s the, uhh, static-y bit and the bit where the thingy is moving and you don’t need as much force to move it. The actual summoning takes a lot of chakra, Yin (mental) or Yang (physical) doesn’t matter, but once it's done, there’s a small, constant drain. All of it is in direct proportions to the size of the summon so –”

I deadpanned at her again, ever so glad that high school physics covered friction and its variables and all that.

“So if Manda was big all the time, you wouldn’t have enough chakra?” I cut her off, before I promptly whined in exasperation when I realized what I had done. She only huffed and shook her head before continuing her explanation, probably relieved I got it so quickly if the proud gleam was anything to go by ( _ she probably didn’t want to keep nattering on _ ...).

“That, would be correct. But as a result of evolution and all that nature-y stuff that some others dabbled in, we realized that all living creatures go through osmosis, chakra style.”

That’s it, I’m  _ that _ close to being done. If she wants to use big words on small kids that  _ shouldn’t _ have knowledge of science classes past, she’ll need to teach me when my body doesn’t feel like goo from training, it’s tiring. Translating in general is tiring.

Then again, if her frantic hand-waving is to go by, kaa-chan probably also realizes that she is slowly losing her lone audience member, it’s sort of endearing, honestly.

“What I mean, is that, umm, despite what most think, everyone is always absorbing tiny,  _ tiny  _ amounts of nature chakra all the time, and also releases tiny amounts of their own chakra into atmosphere through their tenketsu.”

So, is that how I sense? By ‘seeing’ the trace amounts of chakra that is emitted by everybody? Then how the hell can people tell the capacity of others through surface ‘measurements’ so to speak? At least this explanation is easier to understand, despite the questions it raises up.  _ How the heck do they even find this stuff out? _

“On another hand, it’s why there are native chakra elements to certain regions of the world, as nature chakra can be slightly biased towards certain elements. Going back to what I was trying–” note:  _ trying,  _ “– to explain, our chakra system is so entwined with those of the snake contract that we basically live in a symbiosis chakra exchange partnership.” My whining again prompted her to explain symbiosis but it was probably going to happen again.

“As at most half of a whole relationship, us Kinmes provide the snakes with our chakra while they’re in our realm, the amount that needs to keep them alive and the amount that they need to live and grow. Because of our linked relationship, they also take chakra from us when they’re in the summons realm. The catch is,” she took one of my hands and ran it over the scaly ridge of one of her fingers, “they need nature chakra to grow to their full sizes, which their realms are filled with. But like most things in nature, they can’t absorb it directly, and need a means to do so.”

I could physically feel my jaw dropping, and – oh my kami that makes a heck lot of sense. Like, how summons can grow to oversized wrecking balls of doom and how the more connected a sage is with nature, the less signs they show.  _ The snakes use us as a goddamn chakra filter, like, rude much. _

“Humans… are filters?”

Kaa-chan laughed a bit, also snorting at my word choice. “Yeah, sort of. But this is only  _ really _ crucial during their adolescent age, otherwise, the bits of our chakra and nature chakra that we can link to them under normal circumstances is enough for them to grow. The second they need to go over their normal size limit though, they will start to drain our chakra and strain our “filter-like” properties more. The chakra exchange is both ways to, in order to balance out the human chakra we lose to help filter the nature chakra that we all need, a thread of their chakra shows up in us. Generations later, and here we are!” She spread her arms cackling, and gestured to everything, because that was it, wasn’t it? How our lives have become so intrinsically linked with the snakes?

But… “What does this have to do with Ume-san?”

Kaa-chan froze briefly, the smile on her face twitched before dropping into a pouting grimace. “Misdirection trial number thirty-five, fail.” Her muttering just barely reached me but I felt a bit vindicated all the same, for apparently no real reason.

This time when she started again though, her golden eyes were blank, and none of the previous mirth or humour present. “When one side of the bond dies, the other feels it as a sudden chakra fluctuation. Actually, it’s... much worse than a mere chakra fluctuation. It’s like a giant imbalance? I think? Umm, for example, if the human side of the bond died, then the snake side would suddenly lose the filter, or in other cases, have a sudden influx of nature chakra. No matter what people say, the dead  _ do _ have chakra, if only the tiny Yang bit that they have left, unlike Yin chakra which is connected to the soul, spirit, or whatever, Yang chakra takes time to dissipate.

“So, ermm, the entire amount of the remaining Yang chakra suddenly becomes completely available as a filter instead of the little we can spare in order to stay alive, which... kind of lets a lot of nature chakra into the bond? At the same time? Then as summons, all of the excess chakra is converted into growth. That’s why if a Kinme is killed in a surprise attack without using any of their chakra, well. Their partner would essentially growth spurt their way into a behemoth. A crazy one at that, because the sudden loss of what amounts to a soul-partner, turns them a bit crazy.”

I thought back to the eyeless serpent that I had once happened upon in the snakes’ realm, and shuddered.  _ He lost half of his soul… _

And then the question that I was a bit dreading, once I realized that in no way, shape or form, did Sugiryuu appear in the canon dimension. “What happens… if...if the snake died?” Simply because I can no longer imagine a life without Dōsukēru anymore.

“Why,” her eyes crinkled, pulling at the violet markings around her eyes, “did you think we’d be fine with a hole in our souls?” There was no mirth to her tone, just sad acceptance.  _ Is that also what tou-chan had to live with? _

**Time resume: Present**

My stomach rebelled, and I nearly lost the sparse amount of food that I had ingested on the way… home.

_ Was it still home? Home isn’t filled with screaming and ashes and crying and loss oh kami why. _

Hisao-san whispered into my ear, his grip on my shoulder bone tight. “Suijami, Dōsukēru, I’m going to have you two go with Shuichi –”  _ Scar _ , my brain tacked on helpfully, albeit a bit softly, “to where Mi will direct you, there will be a caravan waiting and all of the others not here will be there. Run, and we’ll take care of any pursuers.”

_ Yeah, _ my brain isn’t going to process nothing for a bit though, no matter how anyone explains things, even if it is Hisao-san with a straight answer for once.

“Kaa – Kaa-chan just died, I need to help Ma–a–anda, he needs his head and I – I can help, he sounds sad and angry and  _ ha-ha-lf his s-soul is gone _ !” My voice rose into a pitching wail, and it was testimony to the horrid fighting that not a single enemy shinobi noticed.

I think there may have been snot and tears flowing down my face, but the wind was starting to bite, and the smells singed the skin just as much.

Hisao-san growled,  _ growled _ at me, fangs bared, willing for the child that just lost their last human parent (Manda is honestly just a non-human uncle) to get the tiniest bit of pent-up emotion out of their system, but not patient enough to let me cry until I calm. For all he knows, that could take hours. For all that  _ I _ know, it may take days.

Crouching down to my eye level, his hands gripping my arms (Dōsukēru had her head poking out of my collar), he declared, 

“The Kinme clan has survived before, and it will survive again. Some will be lost, but even science is but built on the dead, much less mere mortals like us, no matter how much chakra defies normal physics. So go with Shuichi, who will be directed by Mi on the path that you shall run.”

He stood up, turned me around, and pushed me away from home. “And run you shall, for night time in deserts never favours the snakes despite how it’s a misleading cloak”.

Somewhere on the snarky side of my brain, I distantly heard the cerebrum cortex mutter  _ dramatics, the lot of them. _

“But–”

“Run along now, or else our pursuers are going to catch up. You haven’t forgotten the rules yet, have you?”  _ Guidelines more like. _

How could I forget the rules? Even if they’re merely mislabelled traditions, they are always,  _ always,  _ followed without fault. The one pertaining to this case would be that children under eight years of age are not allowed to participate on missions with a sure chance of combat, and those under twelve are not allowed onto shinobi “war” zones. 

Scar’s hands were clammy when he grabbed mine, and he tugged none too gently, furious at himself for not being old enough to help in the battle, and instead assigned to ‘escort’ a six-year old. His stress must do  _ wonders _ on his cooking, or was it the other way around? None of us had cooked when we were in Suna, preferring take-out and other foods, but if our chef’s… experimental “delicacies” were of any mention, well.

When further prompting turned to furious tugs at a nearly unresponsive six-year old, Scar huffed and reached over to flick my nose.

Frankly, Dōsukēru was either in a protective and/or grieving mode and she did not appreciate people messing with her human right after losing a surrogate mother, so she reared out of my collar and butted away his hand. Only careful restraint allowed her to not lash out with fangs and venom, only god knows how much pain and poison the Kinme share already.

Nonetheless, I took a step, then another, and finally another. Within five more strides, I was running, looking back after every second or so step, confident that Scar wouldn’t let me fall. 

At the tenth stride, I was flat out sprinting, and only then did I let the built up screams release. “ Fight! Live! May the odds –” and that would be the point at where Scar slapped a hand over my running mouth.

The bloody sun though, it seemed to laugh at us, as it set behind the carnage that had families ripped apart. Its rays all but mocked me when the glare all but prevented me from getting one last glimpse of home.  _ Fat lot of good that does me, just more trauma to compartmentalize and sift through later _ .

_ Shut up brain, nobody here needs you. _

If the expression Scar had was any indication, his last tries to see our home again proved just as futile.

* * *

We had been running, then jogging, then walking, then sprinting again for kilometres, our inconsistent pace set by our ( _ my _ ) limited bodies. I could no longer tell the time, what with the sun at our backs then not at all, and the air was rapidly starting to freeze. I could feel Dōsukēru curling her way around my waist through the thin shirt-like clothing I wore between my skin and the cloak, but even then none of them provided enough insulation against the desert-night. All of my chakra was dedicated so that I could just make that  _ one _ step further, and subsequently a lowering in body temperature. Her drowsiness in her chakra was a laden thing that promised to drag us into sweet oblivion, which I really didn’t want to refuse.  _ Too much death too much toomuch..,  _ mental thoughts touching barely concealed hysteria.

Not for the first time, Scar sneezed, his head twitching in order to try to contain it and not jostle Mi. The tiny coiled thread snake sat among silver-white bristles of hair– much like how she used to curl up in the nest that was Hisao-san’s – directing us onwards, tinkering with our direction every so often. According to the first and last stilted conversation we tried to have, she was the tracker of Hisao’s nest, her siblings capable of feats different from her.

We all pretended to not notice her desperate attempts to look back ( _ maybe to find her possibly dead partner and siblings _ my treacherous mind whispered), or how she flinched every time her chakra flickered without her control.

It was definitely at least an hour of numb silence and frigid tension later that Mi motioned for us to stop, and she dropped off of Scar, her chakra pulsing in what seemed to be a signal.

I took a look around us, having not paid too much attention in my grief induced delirium. No longer were we completely surrounded by dunes, but instead by shallow canyons and equally height-stunted hills that were framed by random pillars of sandstone. Knee-high shrubbery dotted the seemingly wasteland and I could swear that there were cactus-like plants in the distance, if only my eyes could see properly again…

At least night-vision is decent, what with the stars and all. A moon would’ve been even better, but beggars can’t be choosers. Perhaps our clan was purposely attacked on a moonless light, who knows?

Stopping unfortunately meant that we weren’t moving, and the sweat that had accumulated quickly turned a temperature that really might give me frostbite.

“We there ye–et?” Dōsukēru’s speech was slurred and soft and I honestly wasn’t surprised. Either she was nearly asleep, or the cold was getting to her. I can vouch on both aspects, we haven’t rested  _ once _ beyond the two or three minutes we got when our group had arrived at our clan compound, an impossibility in my old world, but completely normal here.

“I think so?” I replied still unsure, rubbing my hands quickly for that bit of friction generated warmth, I pressed my now warmer palms to where I knew her head was and a couple inches down from her neck. She probably needs the heat more than I, considering her actual biology, and considering how my chakra circulation was focused on in my legs to provide speed instead of the warmth that would’ve been quite needed.

Multitasking with chakra can sometimes be a tad… messy.

Then a flush of dry, warm, rocky chakra washed over the area, the ground opens in front of Mi, and I gape a little. My partner also squirmed up from around my waist to poke her head out of my collar (and only her head), tongue flicking out once before staying firmly in her mouth.

Scar had automatically settled into a defensive stance, what appeared to be a curved haladie blade clutched in his right hand and a fistful of senbon in the other, spaced evenly between his digits in a practiced move. His partner had also woken up, the cobra spreading his hood in an aggressive display and hissing menacingly at the figure rising from the hole in the sandstone-like ground. It would’ve been funny with how the cobra was legitimately half asleep, but humour has been evading me for the past few hours.

It was the soft-looking, black-haired Yuki that had passed me an ice-cube what seemed like ages ago in line to hire a genin team.  _ A team of children that might now be associated with the downfall of the Kinme clan… _

The Yuki’s brown eyes sparkled when they alighted on me, and the armour-clad ice-wielder offered me a smile, before smirking at an abashed looking Scar? What the heck?

“Now there, Shuichi, it wouldn’t do you any good if you’re so tense the entire way.”

I blinked at the lack of honorifics.

“And you two must be Suijami-chan and Dōsukēru-chan.” The Yuki clapped once, and motioned for us to all shuffle closer to the hole in the ground. Imagine my surprise when I realized that there was a river down there, flowing through an underground cavern.

“I’m Mako, and I’ll be your escort through the Yuki-waterway today.”

I stared, and the icy-cold/sweet-frost chakra of Mako flickered, bright like the glare on snow, and tinged with sadness.  _ Ohh. She knows. _

If even a non-clan-member knows, how many knew that the Kinme were going to be attacked? How long did they prepare?  _ Why didn’t they run? Was it a matter of kami-damned pride?? _

_ … _ I just don’t know.

So when the brown-eyed Yuki stepped up, I took a step back, and suddenly we all heard the barely noticeable footfalls on sand, no longer obstructed by a pillar of sandstone behind us, or in front of Mako.

Gold-eyes glinted out from underneath a hood when we whirled around, the only definable feature visible from the bloodstained cloak and scarf that adorned the figure. Even then, the chakra was unmistakably Hisao-san’s, even if a bit skewed, and notably weaker.

Scar visibly relaxed his grip on his weapons (again) but Mi looked confused, head tilting left and right as if squinting to look for something. I just sniffed the air, it bit my nose sure, cold always did, but underneath the copper tang of blood was still the faintest hint of coffee. So, I'm  _ quite _ sure it's Hisao-san? Something still seemed wrong though, not to mention his lack of glasses.

“Why, hell~o darling boo,” crooned the Yuki, “took you a bit, didn’t it? Now, are others going to meet us back up in Taki?”

The eyes blinked, and Hisao-san’s head dipped in a nod (oddly stiffened, if not too silent).

Then Mako-san surprised us all when four icicles spun into existence from a hip flask at with a single hand seal, and propelled themselves (weaving around Scar and I) at Hisao-san with a snarl of anger. It was only when Mi gave a hiss of outrage at her partner did I know that something was dreadfully, kami–damned, wrong.

The wrongness was intensified when the merchant didn’t move, and simply allowed the glorified ice spears stab into his chest, stomach, right shoulder, and left foot, I gagged, and could feel bile rise up in my throat yet again.

Then all the bile came out in a wet splatter when the spears ripped out again, only to reveal a perforated corpse.

It tasted like blood and ashes and acid and smelled like nothing pleasant, vomit now dripping through my facial orifices. Damn my sense of smell.

Mi wailed a screeching cry, and launched herself through the sand, practically flying to where her partner’s corpse stood, for it stood, despite the multiple not-so friendly looking holes.

Then the world exploded in sand.

Clattering sounds filled the night, and I wiped my face using my Suna-grade cloak ( _ not going to wear one ever again _ ) and channelled chakra to my palms, puffs of smoke signifying the unsealing of twin daggers.

The chef in-training next to me, however, had never dismissed his weapons. He took a familiar stance and swiftly slide a blade of the haladie over his left arm. It cut easily through the cloak, and the gentle glow emitted by the now chakra-infused weapon easily illuminated the black curling marks of a summoning seal. _Who did he lose?_ I wondered briefly, then laughed inwardly at my own morbid humour, _perhaps_ _everyone, soon._

But children are not known for their chakra capacities, no matter the gender, training, or clan heritage, and Scar was no different.

I could feel his chakra flare once he ran a bloodied thumb – flying debris had cut a gash over his chin – over the mark, like a beacon for the precious few instants that it took for a summon to be brought over to the human realm. The snake did not disappoint, a glowing white bulk that for an instant obscured the enemy. At least, before Scar doubled in agony as white blots started crystallizing upon the opened sleeve.

The fact that the snake was white said enough.

In this world, natural albino snakes are practically unheard of, especially when they were summons. Most shinobi choose to kill whatever snake that they see, the serpents too long associated with my clan. Even if not affiliated, the possibility of a venomous snake getting somewhere it shouldn’t discourages people from keeping snakes alive, unless they are poison experts and want to harvest the venom.

Then it could either be better or worse.

Thankfully, nobody usually goes out of their way to kill snakes, but enough humans and predators pretty much ensured that all the non-summoning snakes are hard to find.

Among the summonings though, white snakes are the ones with the highest chakra capacity, best in their fields, and hardest to kill. They are also the ones that can absorb the most latent nature chakra without human filters. The white ones could be either born the way they are, or bleached by a latter day occurrence.

In other words, they’re a bit similar to sages, sages that have lost their partners through an act of kamikaze to save them ( _ they weren’t always the colour of bleached bones _ ). The downside is that the amount of chakra required to keep any type of sage-summon in our realm is exponentially larger, and requires a hell lot more filtered nature chakra. Then to compensate for a larger so-called “filter-surface” and our intruding onto the fringes of sage-territory without proper training we grow scales, the first step to turning to a stone snake.

At least we weren’t connected with toads.

According to some of the elders, you can tell how many times a Kinme was pushed beyond their normal summoning capacities by counting their scales. Generally, children below the age of twelve don’t have any, despite occasional twinges that tells us where the transformation might start from when our chakra is strained. I only have an inkling of where mine might be, but if it proves true, well. I will be losing a  _ lot _ of flexibility, it’s not like scales can be removed.

But that doesn’t matter now, as Scar has fallen over, white glitter-like scales climbing up his arms, and his partner writhing on the ground as chakra is almost visibly siphoned off of them.

The white snake bellowed, and lunged, chakra furious and mad and hurt and filled with too much regret.

It took a chunk of the desert with it.

Despite the large summon’s speed and girth, puppets are notoriously hard to fight, and more so when it’s a team of puppeteers. But when the snake is mostly immune to most poisons, and when the scales can block most of the smaller projectiles that the puppets were pumping out, the fight seems a bit more on equal footing.

When the battlefield was briefly visible, I counted in total four puppets and three sand-cloaked puppeteers, painted visages bared for the world to see. One of the puppets was the corpse of Hisao-san, roughly hewn blocks of wood encircled his wrists and ankles while other less visible puppet parts littered the body.

_ A rush job _ .

I could hear a strangled whimper from Dōsukēru when she set her eyes on the mangles corpse of Mi, bloody and in pieces with guts everywhere, senbon littered the cadaver in a horrifyingly precise manner. Threadsnakes were never visibly imposing, but her death made her all the smaller.  _ At least she can join her nest mates in death, _ I thought stiffly _ , no way are they still alive. _

My feet were stiff, frozen as I watched the harrowing battle play out, unable to will myself into action.

A scorpion shaped puppet dipped low, aiming to manoeuvre around the snake, only to be quickly recalled when a tail swung through the area between it and its puppeteer. The other puppets ganged up on the summon while their puppeteers inched around, desperately keeping their weapons between them and the snake.

We all knew that if the snake got a fang on them, they would be as good as dead.

They, unfortunately, also knew that the once-merchant's body made for a good shield against what once was an ally.

The white snake, however, could only block so many of the enemies at the same time, and time was running out if the way Scar was convulsing was any indication. I did the only logical thing available to me at the time.

Seal one dagger, sheathe the other by threading it into my cloak, scoop up Scar, his partner, and run like hell towards the Yuki snarling for a “Katsuki-baka” to get his ass up here and fight against a puppeteer that had circled around.

This is around where I got very confused around the sequence of events, as my plan didn’t even make it to the first phase.

The clan mate that I was lugging on my shoulder potato–style gave a full-body spasm before I felt something in his chakra go  _ snap _ , his partner similarly went limp in the hand that I was cradling him in, and the white snake vanished in an eruption of summoning smoke, leaving three very dead humans, and three very broken puppets, Mi and Hisao-san’s desecrated corpse nowhere to be found, and a very scared adult-child.

But somewhere in between, the ground had trembled, and the desert erupted with  _ bones _ .

_ Kaguya _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, there is one more pre-written chapter before I slow down to fan fiction.net speed. Those updates will take a while due to school and all the lovely things it entails. So yeah, I regret nothing.  
> Please leave a comment on the way out!  
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Us Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Suijami realizes that 2D isn't a space fit for humans, and that hope isn't always too damn fragile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto  
> Warnings: Dead people/corpses, angst, trauma, swearing, if you've read up till now, shouldn't you know I'm tagging this with?

 

Chakra had ripped through the fabric of the desert in great, stalking pillars of bone, bleached white beyond the capabilities of nature and pulsing with energy. 

The last puppeteer, the one that was held off by the Yuki, had been impaled on two of the bones jutting out of the ground, while his lone puppet dangled stringless and broken on another. The empty clacking sounds it made when the bone crumbled caused shivers to run up and down my spine. I ignored the bloodstains around its wielder.

The desert felt surprisingly empty without giant summons and people throwing weapons and wooden parts at each other. The chakra, too, was much too calm.

I gingerly picked my way past one of the four-meter tall bone spikes. They looked a lot like the ribs of a giant creature up close, a giant, dead thing that was left in the sun for too long.

Perhaps the Kaguya was how the Mountain Graveyard came to be? The black Zetsu would certainly appreciate the irony when Madara and the statue of Six Paths ended up there.

But here, now, clutching the Kinme that less than ten seconds ago was pissed and embarrassed and so so angry, the sole clan member that less than ten seconds ago that I could guarantee was alive, I wondered if I was in shock. For all I know, the clan member that I was now lugging could be dead and I would only be holding onto a body, a corpse and a dead-end of a future.

Something in me wanted to scream, but was squashed down ruthlessly as my feet took me to where an impaled enemy relied on a spike of calcium carbonate to stay upright.

Having removed herself from the inside of my cloak, the young blue snake chose to sit in my hood, her head resting on my shoulder. Scar’s a  _ heck lot _ larger than me, and so required quite a lot of shoulder space. His partner (who I still can’t recall the name of), was still limp in my cradled arms, scales visibly dimmer than before.

Yeah, screaming sounds like a good idea right now. 

My frontal lobe very vehemently disagrees, with lots of pain and emotional numbness, loud sounds would definitely not be a boon to this monster of a future migraine. Nothing feels natural anymore.

The Yuki, Mako, and the Kaguya apparent, Katsuki (scowling and much too pale in the moonless night), were waiting by the hole in the ground, now one of many. Me thinks they bicker like an old married couple.

It wasn’t until Mako was carrying everything my feet were carrying did I realize how tired I was, too much in too little time tends to have that effect. The adrenaline from having nearly been killed if Scar didn’t summon a giant snake also caught up in the worst manner possible, another strong incentive to puke.

My stomach rumbled. I’m hungry. The arm that lugged me around by my stomach was cold, so I shivered a bit.

I could hear also Dōsukēru in my hood, who was just  _ that _ bit pissed that we were once again assumed to be potatoes.

“Katsuki, help me carry these children or so help you, I  _ will _ gut you.” Mako-san also seemed pissed at being regulated the task of a pack mule, even if it was only a couple meters.

The Kaguya, Katsuki if Mako-san’s words are to be believed, was garbed in dark pants and the bottom of a robe that resembled some odd combination of a bathrobe, and a toga. The top was currently shrugged down and tied around his waist, leaving a bare chest and too many ribs outside of the skin. The robe thing would certainly be an asset with how often Kaguya’s would “accidentally” poke holes through their clothing, as armour never helped them much anyways when considering the bones under their skin functioned much better than steel, far more flexible too.

It did not, however, make the multitude of bones that protruded from his skin any less terrifying, horrifying, or daunting, whatever one might want to describe it by. If I wasn’t already traumatized from dying, seeing the dead, and seeing impaled dead people, my reaction to seeing people being stuck on stalks of poles would have probably brought up too many reminders of  _ my _ death, how... pleasant.

To stop myself from descending into despair of my hole-y death (still too early, but improvement?), I randomly blamed my knowledge of other clans fully on the knowledge hidden away in the Kinme clan library, which hopefully in some shape or form, still exists.

Goddamn it, I still need to return a scroll on Suna’s weird-ass relationship with Shukaku. 

(Or maybe I could “accidentally” drop it around another jinchuuriki, the poor bijuus need  _ some _ form of sibling entertainment)

Whatever.

Jabbing my elbow into the side of the Yuki, I was very unceremoniously dropped.

“I’m not potato, damnit. Sorry.” The bewildered ice-wielder had no clue how to respond to my mumbled random statement out of the blue, or the random apology. Rather, it was the bone-user that quirked an eyebrow at my poor grammer. Screw grammar, it can take a hike until my brain finds me again. I tried to ignore how the Yuki was trying to find a pulse on Scar’s wrist, a move I recognized from traditional medicine of random places of Before, and failing that, finding a pulse on his neck.

Of course Scar wasn’t going to have a pulse in his wrists, by this point, they’re basically glorified white, scaled stone.

The needles that followed in a precise manner though, was rather straightforward and very… helpful? Painful? I don’t know,

“So the child speaks,” the teal-eyed bone user commented drily, “perhaps she’ll realize that being carried is the only method to travel on the Yuki Waterways.” Well, I can just  _ hear _ the capitalized lettering, plenty pleasant when I suddenly realized that none of us are going through water the usual way.

“Hell crappin’ buckets no.” I scrambled back in the sand, shaking my head while trying to murder the ground via sticking to it. 

It didn’t work. 

Running a pale, glinting hand down his face in annoyance, the Kaguya strode forward and plucked me off the ground by the back of my cloak, Dōsukēru was not amused, but her bite did nothing against his hardened skin. Apparently their calcification or whatever it’s called, can extend to skin too. Nice to know.

The two of us could put up more of a fight if we wanted to, but it would be just that. A fight, with no real intent or purpose. At my six years of age, Kakashi had already become a genin, perhaps even a chunin, if the timeline decides to be annoying, and the three future Sannin, one of which is my younger little brother, would have graduated the academy and become a team under the third Hokage.

Anyways, the point is that I was probably at the level of a near-academy graduate, at least. I have the so-called basic three down, despite my preferences to the Kamiwari only, and not enough strength to back up my speed.

But, there isn’t any point, really, is there? Against a Kaguya and a Yuki, both of the most prominent clans of Kiri, and one of them being known for being a bit of a battle junkie. I lost most of my heart, not my brain or common sense.

And so I ended up being picked up bridal-style this time, and then thrown over Katsuki-san’s back in a mockery of a piggy-back where his _reversed growing_ _ribs_ held me in place. It was… interesting to say the least, as it wasn’t everyday that I get to be held by a cradle of actual living bone (pretty sturdy if I had to say so myself, and no chance of escape either). At least none of them were _hol-ding_ onto me. I shuddered. _Never mind_ , puns aren’t gonna _cut_ it.

At least Dōsukēru was able to settle back around my neck after sliding out of the cloak’s hood, she did not, however, appreciate the long white hair of the Kaguya that was tangled around everything, and I thought  _ my _ bed hair was bad.

“Are you ready to depart?” Mako-san questioned the Kaguya, hopefully oblivious to my inner crisis.

I couldn’t see Katsuki-san’s expression, as I was sort of stuck on his back, but Mako-san huffed and extended the hand that wasn’t keeping a comatose Kinme on their shoulder. At least, I  _ hope _ he was comatose. That was really a strange thing to wish for, as I had assumed myself in a coma during my brief stint of encastion by calcium carbonate and chakra, but comatose means  _ alive _ , and I could almost imagine his chakra was there, at the edges of my senses.

A moment of hesitation later the bone-wielder sighed and patted the unoccupied shoulder of the Yuki instead, both of their chakras were rather amused, despite being tinged with varying amounts of annoyance.

I could still see the muscles under the eye of the Yuki twitching though, which was rather amusing when the only other Yuki that dwells in my memory is one that is not yet born, will die young, be randomly resurrected, and “dies” again. My brain is just coming up with the  _ best _ of scenarios, isn’t it?

Ehh, I don’t think I have time to care about possible deaths in the future, not when I’m so far back that the ‘timeline’ is probably fudged up just from my existence. 

Then Katsuki-san started moving again, and Mako-san fell in step next to him, the poor Kaguya had nary a second to catch the Kinme that Mako-san tossed over, and then a cobra was then thrown around Katsuki’s neck (not unlike a collar, perhaps even a noose). They had to stop while Katsuki-san adjusted his hold on Scar so that at least one hand was free. Guess what? He also ended up in a potato hold. When the white-haired man had the gall to growl, red dot markings probably crinkling above his eyebrows, I couldn’t hold in my snickers anymore. 

They sounded more hysterical than anything else, but at this point? I couldn’t care less. If the fact that they helped to ease my lungs again was an indication of anything, at least I won’t die of suffocation?

We were moving again a couple seconds later, Mako-san occasionally shooting glances to the two (or three, or even four) baggages that the pack mule known as Katsuki Kaguya was carrying to the gaping maw in the ground. This will definitely be interesting if they are going to do what I think that they’re gonna do, but perhaps I’ll lose a few brain cells. Life in the third dimension  _ has  _ to be healthier for us than that of the second.

The sound of a river rushing through its cavern underground only let itself be heard once we were right at the edge, the smell of a damp cave was much more pronounced. 

“Hang on tight!” The Yuki crowed. Two seconds and a few handsigns later, Mako-san yanked on Katsuki-san’s arm in a vise like grip and we were falling.

And falling.

And the up-throwing of a single kunai (Yuki-bloody-Mako-san).

And a hell lot of screaming (me).

And a hell lot more of panicked hissing (Dōsukēru).

And flapping around slack limbs and heads alike (everyone but the ‘adults’).

Then we hit ice bottom. Unlike what imagination might’ve granted me in this morbid moment, I was almost sure that something will go wrong, murphy’s law and all that. Or maybe I’ve been charged enough by the law for a lifetime, perhaps even two.

Thankfully what we hit  _ was _ ice, in fact, the mirror of ice that I had predicted (secretly, in the hell-deep depths of my mind) was placed somewhere  _ not _ the center of the goddamn Earth. The fact that we didn’t so much as hit, as  _ slide _ into, was also appreciated, as hitting solid objects at terminal velocity is never a wise idea. 

However, the sudden change of dimensional existence (and temperature) or whatever was weird as heck, and the fact that it meant three people in the same ‘space’ fitting into one?

Yeeah–no. Not an experience that I would necessarily enjoy repeating again.

But alas, it  _ was _ an experience that was repeated, and repeatedly as well. Nearly the instant we were all 2D, Mako-san, our ‘guide’ in this freak space, somehow pulled us out despite 2D-ness not having any forces in the 3D world, at the same speed we were falling except up. And sideways.

And so it went.

Between the changing of dimensional existences, we were either travelling at insane speeds and through wetness and stinging winds that were thankfully averted by Katsuki-san’s back, or coldness and flatness and the sensation of not being able to draw breath. It however, was always dark, almost no light reflected by the myriad of mirrors, I worry about the state of our “driver”. 

After who knows how many jumps later, there was a sudden, too-bright glare of light, and we were catapulting straight up, the ice mirror shattering behind us.

_ (Me thinks we broke gravity.) _

_ Ah, there must’ve been a seal that chain-linked them. _

Thinking back at the random kunai that was shot upwards before our… somewhat glitching journey, it made sense that our tracks will need to be covered as best as they could, considering the genocide that we pretty much left behind.

(That I ran away from.)

When the tinkling sound of ice shattering in my ears finally faded away, we had just reached the apex of the final jump, straight-bloody-up. Cue screaming once gravity decided that smashing six bodies into water would be a good idea.

Thank god for ninja water-walking, thank gods for the two being Kiri nin, so all the more better at it.

Once I could pry an eye open without being gripped in the deathly throes of possible-future-projectile vomiting, I blinked it close almost immediately, and burrowed into the back of the Kaguya. Unfortunately, it was a fact that did not go unnoticed by the Yuki standing a bit too close, and who started bloody  _ cooing _ at me.

I… feel a bit conflicted.

On one hand, the Kaguya was so  _ warm _ and I was still friggin freezing and the bones are still a cage that I didn’t really want to contemplate.

On the other hand… 

Well.

Six-year-olds aren’t supposed to have much of a dignity anyways, right?

“Look at you three, just so adorable!” 

Never mind, I like my dignity very much.

I will not be considered adorable next to a bone-using death machine and a potato-sack mimic.

“Can you please put me down, Katsuki-san?” Outside of a brief nod on behalf of the Kaguya, there wasn’t much reaction. At least, not until the bone cage started to slowly retract into his back like some wrongly-positioned wolverine claws. With a startled yelp, I quickly launched myself out once there was sufficient space, and my partner also very efficiently chose to slide around my neck. Ducking into a roll with a snake in my unworn hood is even worse than rolling with too many boxes of take-out for delivery.

But, it was worth it. For when I staggered unsteadily back to my feet, stumbling and blinking blearily eyed, a little form garbed in a light-ish brown cloak collided with my midsection, sending me back down. Thankfully the ‘ground’ was some sort of thick moss covering, otherwise I would’ve earned via flying brother a rather bruised back.

Tiny, three year old hands clung desperately to the front of my cloak, heedless of the grime, sweat, bits of bile that shared residence on the cloth. I patted his back awkwardly, before my brain caught up and enabled my ability to envelope Orochimaru, the last of my close blood family, into a crushing hug. 

I barely took notice when our partners slithered off to who knows where, probably conversing and venting out some emotion in methods other than cry into a sibling. I’ll… probably just end up telling them stories later, the seals holding my stuff are still intact, after all. 

Burying my nose into his hair, I took a deep breath. He smelled like tears and sadness and snakes and  _ home _ . Of course by this point my partner had all but abandoned me the the mercy of my brother as she slithered off, probably to confirm the numbers of our remaining clan mates. 

Then I sneezed, barely muffling it with my hand in time. Without the heater known as Katsuki Kaguya, my Kinme heritage does not let me keep as much heat as I would’ve liked. In fact, it wasn’t  _ nearly _ enough. Add on a literal weight crushing me (for such a small kid, Orochi weighs a  _ lot _ right now), and I can practically feel the heat leaching out, cloak be damned. The little tyke sobbing into my cloak did not help either.

But…  _ he’s alive _ , I thought in relief, fingers threading through and stroking his currently shortish, a tad spiky hair. Plot armour probably doesn’t exist considering how much the timeline already seems to be screwed (not like it wasn’t before anyways), and that’ll mean that the both, I mean, the four of us will need to work even harder than others to stay alive. I probably won’t live to see canon, because it’s friggin decades away, but I’ll enjoy life while I can and make my mark. The Kinme will not have a reputation of being wiped out within a day, even ‘scattering’ tarnishes the pride my clan feels. After all, the only human on this damn continent that can probably match a Kinme in scientific and etc. advancements is Tobirama. Our clan has a bit of a rivalry with the Mara’s so that settles that side, but science can never be completely replaced by the chakra bullcrap.

Maybe I won’t specialize in research, but walk another route. Orochimaru has the research and experiment section of the Kinme legacy down, even if we are the sole survivors unlikely as it is, so I’ll just maintain the shadows and traditions of the Kinmes.

And, thinking is tiring now. If the slowing hiccups and sniffles are anything to go by, so is my little Orochi. Sleep in fact sounds like a very good thing to do right now, in fact, I think I’ll do that. 

Moss is comfortable.

* * *

I woke hazily to a room, in a futon, and squished on both sides by bodies barely warmer than mine. After an inhale because both of my eyes are lazy little arses that don’t understand the definition of working properly, I was able to identify the two warmth generators as a tightly curled up Orochi and a very randomly splayed out Hikaru. A couple more inhales later and my brain was functioning enough for the chakra of my surroundings to filter in to tell me that we were not alone in the room, and that the others present were not our snakes.

Actually, where were they anyways? Generally they would be somewhere by our heads, or just curled up over our not-really-a-pile doggy pile, but I couldn’t feel their chakra anywhere in our close vicinity. No Ume-baasan, who is nowadays too scatterbrained to hold her attention for anything over two minutes but overly protective of Hikaru, no Sugiryuu, which is somewhat worrying because he is a lazy, curious  _ cat _ in scales that somehow hogs  _ all _ of our body heat despite being the friggin shortest snake of them all, and Dōsukēru, which is the most worrying. She… has barely left my side ever since I had started teaching her English, or even before, when I had first told her in a toddler’s vocal chords that I’m a legit dead thing living. 

Even in the instances where she has, she had never gone outside of my sensing range, which she very clearly knows the boundaries of.

And so, this is when I started panicking.

Hikaru woke up almost immediately after my breathing became irregular, but even he was slowed to the extent that only a couple of heartbeats later did he twist around unnaturally under our covers and kneel next to me, the warm air rushing out of the gaping hole he caused while doing so only caused a slight shiver.

Somewhere in the haze of  _ where is she where is she where is my partner you jackass lunatical excuse for fate  _ and  _ oh kami thank kami my cousin is alive _ where I ashamedly regret that the first took absolute precedence, I felt my cousin’s chakra weave in a soothing pattern, like he was trying to mimic a sound with vibrations of chakra instead of soundwaves. To my chakra sense, it felt like a horrible rendition of a fur elise. Like, Beethoven's doing- cartwheels- while- crying- so- many- buckets- that- he’s- drowning- in- his- coffin horrible.

But somehow, the piece from a time Before managed to calm me down enough so that I was breathing again,  _ ohhh, _ the irony.

However, both of us froze when the little midget beside me shifted in his sleep. I exchanged a brief glance with Hikaru, and we waited with bated breath to witness Orochi mumbling, rubbing at his eyes, and generally waking up at the speed of a moving glacier. 

It was over two minutes later did he actually acknowledge us, with a murmured “nee-chan? Hikaru-niisan? Where are we?”

Actually, that’s a very good question. I had no goddamn clue, and I couldn’t really talk at the moment or I might not stop. But thankfully, our cousin did.

When our – _ kami above we’re all orphans now– _ cousin replied that we were safe, Orochi just blinked, golden eyes subtly sharpening. He’s…  too sharp for a kid sometimes.

Then the moment was ruined when he sneezed, nose crunched up and eyes squinted as if also annoyed that his seriousness was disrupted by a particularly annoying bug.

Children will be children, and that is best kept a constant.

* * *

After I dragged both of my boys back to sleep, semi-confident that our partners will return in due time, we were woken up again by too much sound. I hate mornings.

“Hello children,” a Yuki-that’s-not-Mako garbed in flowing robes smiled pleasantly, “it’s time for breakfast, there’s coffee and hot chocolate.”

The effect was instantaneous, all the other chakra signatures in our room flared and fluctuated as the aforementioned children roused themselves from their sleep and I could finally get a good look at them through the lighting of the passageway. From what my senses told me, there was about another ten or so signatures in the room with us, all immature, young chakra pathways waking up from whatever stage of sleep they were in. Our snake-bonded clan never  _ really _ cared that we were only children, if one was old enough to hold kunai, one could most definitely drink coffee, but perhaps with liberal amounts of milk and sugar, and first started off with some strong tea. Well, the point is that we don’t wake up well most of the time, and even worse when the weather is cold.

In short, most if not all of us are somewhat coffee addicts, or hot chocolate depending on the time of year, or tea depending on the age. Since it’s winter, then hot coco for me, despite not being the same types as the ones from Before, the teas in this world is too strange for my stomach to settle with. 

I gropped out blindly for warmth as Hikaru  _ the traitor _ left the blankets and the cold seeped in, I used to love the cold (came with being a Canadian I swear) but now sharing similarities in constitution of a snake meant that our cold-bloodedness needed much more heat to rectify, and that everything is slow to us during the cold, hence why we are generally attacked in the night or during winter. But I can’t be really sure if that’s the overall trend, as I’ve only ever witnessed two actual attacks launched on our clan, insufficient data cannot support such a hypothesis no matter how likely it seems.

But, as I crawled out from under the blankets while dragging with me a whining Orochi, I realized that my clan is not just survived by us kids, but also by four adults that stood somewhere right outside in the hallway, and that the hallway was also the place where all of our snakes were congregated.

_ I hate chakra muffling seals. _

It didn’t help that all the chakra signatures positioned outside were in a state of muted grief, compartmentalization a popular tactic among Kinme’s.

Thirteen. Thirteen of an originally over hundred clan is left. Thankfully that’s discounting the snakes so far, because the possibly casualties of our partners is not one that I want to dwell on.

What an ominous number, thirteen.

But standing in a room surrounded by the familiar chakra of my clanmates,  _ the last survivors of my clan _ , at least it’s better than four?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Retreats into hole of IB procrastination*  
> *Points at school* I blame school, and university, and education in general.  
> Life's been marginally in the ups and downs the last few days/weeks, but the next chapter should be up next week? (#MarchBreakSavesLives or something).  
> As usual, if there's questions, pester me on tumblr or comment, if there's feedback (what's good/bad, typos) do the same, if there's flames, please refrain from typing them out, and just generally, comments are the food for the brain!  
> Basically, please leave a judo on the way out, subscribe, and comment!  
> Thanks for reading!


	15. Paths (sort of) Diverge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some things are explained, some not, decisions are made, and the gone are laid to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto  
> Warnings: Death(s), angst, pieces of fluff, etc, you know the drill.

 

Turns out it really was only the thirteen of us, nine kids and four adults, the rest having stayed behind and went down fighting, or were tracked down while trying to reach one of the safepoints that the Yuki were stationed at. If Scar had lived, there would’ve been fourteen.

He did not.

I may harbour a bit of a grudge towards our rescue party for that because if Kaguya Katsuki had came in the fight even _that_ bit earlier, then Scar could’ve been with the rest of us (grieving). However, I really shouldn’t. Because they risked their necks for us, and who knows what circumstances prevented Katsuki-san from immediately jumping into the fray?

Honestly, we really owe the Kiri caravan a lot this time, and a hell lot to Hisao-san and his partners (may they all rest in peace). Apparently, he wasn’t just a medic-merchant-multitasker person, but one of _the_ best information gatherers in the clan. His partners, all the tiny threadsnakes named after the musical scale, were somehow capable of reverse summoning themselves back to his hair at any given time in addition to their other skill sets. Add in that he’s a merchant of ninja and civilian wares alike, gossip was plentiful.

Sadly, his last message via snake-on-eagle was intercepted before it even left Suna, as no one recalled receiving any messages during the Last Day (us kids aren’t inventive, whoops, and the adults can be worse).

The clan had already begun evacuating slowly, with each leaving adult taking two kids about with them, as ‘children are the light of the next generation’ and ‘the old guard needed a replacing anyway’.

When they choose the adults for escort duty, they were obviously not chosen for child-comforting skills.

Who the hell tells toddler-aged brats that ‘the old guard needed a replacing anyway’? Or perhaps it was more for the benefit of the snakes?

(Probably the latter.)

But… it made sense in a twisted fashion. Almost all the surviving adults are chakra sensors, maybe not with as much detail as mine, but with incredibly large ranges or senses so keen that the rest of the animal kingdom can go wallow in their corner of pity. Add to that, only two kids and an adult with good enough chakra control wouldn’t alert any possible Suna sensor nin stationed around our compound when they sneaked away, a child’s generally being so small that it would be covered by the thick, home feeling chakra emitted by our summons. As to whether there were any sensor nin or not, well, there probably was.

I tried to ignore the fact that there used to be more than just nine children in our clan, and how there were much more Kinme not trained to fight in full-scale ninja warfare. Evidently, my ignoring thoughts didn’t work, as can be seen from my brain running over the facts again and again and again.

Why they waited until the day that we had left Suna, I will never know. Perhaps they wanted all the Kinme in a single goddamn basket ripe for picking (They didn’t have mind-readers that I know of, but T&I works just fine)? Or perhaps they wanted to use us to track down our safe houses?

Too bad, none of us are soft or fragile enough to be compared with eggs, and if the battle that I caught a glimpse of was any indication, Suna had dropped the basket of grenades over in a field of ice. Exploding ice is never good for those nearby, especially the one that had mistaken the contents of the basket.

All this and more was explained over a grim meal of plain rice and fried desert rat with the thirteen of us crowded into the center of the old mess hall, its seal having been passed to us by a messenger snake from the possession of our now deceased clan leader. Those that understood looked away when our new clan head broke down crying.

It felt too empty, with only the few of us where there used to be a hundred, the walls too far away from our backs and the air too still from lack of movement.

(And they're all dead dead _dead_ and there's nothing I can do except perhaps pester Tobirama for Edo Tensei.

_Actually, that’s a good idea…_

Brain, kindly shut up. Please.)

Of the four remaining adults, one could barely count as such.

Our new clan leader seemed rather distraught, an emotion that I can fully sympathize with right now. Her grandmother is dead, and so are her parents, all having stayed behind to vanquish the Suna invaders, a task that I would consider mostly completed as the last messenger had informed us that out of the near two hundred enemy nin, only three escaped unscathed due to being far-range puppeteers, and only seven injured. The rest, deader than kami-damned doornails. The snakes that had remained on site had also gathered enough information on the dead enemies, Suna nin and missing-nin alike, that we could track down their associates and wrangle answers out of them. As in answers to why they thought it acceptable to wreck genocide on an entire clan. Or for revenge. Who knows? I personally know that forevermore, I shall shun puppet users and strive to be the bane of their existence whenever possible, Sasori, Chiyo, and Kankuro be damned.

Of course, we were not left without casualties as well, as the only Kinme’s still alive were all seated with me in our cavernous mess hall. Today was the third day after the attack, and Scar and I were the last to arrive three days ago.

No one else had appeared. Apparently even those that had been on missions or absent were hunted down, there’s no way that they wouldn’t return otherwise.

The three days had passed with the hazy recollection of events common after a particularly traumatic event, and up till today, no one had really ventured into the mess hall for anything longer beyond a snack.  It might be because the Snake clan were cleaning up the battlefields by reverse-summoning, then somewhat-normal summoning, my clanmates into the mess hall via glass egg capsules.

Actually, they might’ve, but I wouldn’t know considering I was basically stuck in a fuuton for the entire first day back. That was… mildly aggravating. Who knew running for so long would be detrimental on a six-year old’s legs?

(Thankfully, someone had decided to compulsively hide food everywhere in the base for everyone else to find and eat. Whoever they are, they’re a kami send.)

It was strange living at a mockery of home after the Last Day. After Mako-san and Katsuki-san had delivered Scar and I to the rest of the clan along with our partners, one of the adults had, according to Hikaru, ‘plopped you kids off with us before stealing

Dōsukēru and –’ _shit. I forgot his name again_ ‘– because the Suna bastards had dropped pellets specifically targeting the chakra systems of non-humans in our water supply and they needed an uncontaminated specimen.’ After a bit of prompting and a hell lot of whining, I had then found out that the compound in the water supply was not discovered because it had no adverse effects. At least, not unless it came into contact with some specific gases.

The only non-humans living with us are some of the experimental animals, and the snakes that virtually harbour half our souls.

Was this how Sugiryuu had originally died? From a poison that not even _my_ clan detected?

There’s some twisted sense of irony, right there. The fact that most of us are immune to quite a selection of poisons even more so.

Thankfully Dōsukēru got back to me a couple hours after I woke up, even if she was missing a few scales along her back and the faint scent of blood that wafted out of her mouth made me want to rip something apart.

At least her sacrifice (I don’t care she was willing, she was _hurt_ while _away_ from me) wasn’t in vain, as we hadn’t consumed the contaminated water supply but the little bit of gas that was inhaled around our brief last glimpse of our compound was enough to stick around her bloodstream. The few gas-infected samples that she provided along with the pellet-water-supply-poison shit that the water provided was enough for the adults to put their heads together and create an antidote.

( _It’s this genius that scared away almost everyone else_ )

The Kiri caravan were nice in a way in that they occasionally popped down below to where the remnants of my clan rested in a miniaturized, bastardized version of our original compound to ensure that we were eating and getting up and didn’t die in our sleep.

I wonder what the standardized pay for stealing the remaining fragments of a clan away from a genocide is.

“–Nee-chan, nee-chan!” an incessant tugging on my sleeve broke me out of my thoughts and I stopped mechanically stuffing my face with overcooked desert rat. I imagine it tastes like overcooked chicken. As long as it's edible though, I don't really care. Dōsukēru didn’t care either, but I was pampering her by stripping meat off the bones for her to eat so her opinion is moot. Normally she eats like any other snake, by consuming live/barely dead prey whole, but with most of the snakes in the infirmary-like section of our– our– bunker-esques hideout due to poison, I felt like she needed a bit of pampering.

(And I a little self-assurance that she’s _alive_ )

“Yes, Orochi? Don’t forget to drink your cactus juice.” When in Rome, do as the toga-loving romans do. Of course, messing with people is always a good way to take some attention off of other...things.

An eyebrow under the little mop of black hair twitched, before my little brother furiously shook his head, “hime-sama-chan wanted to know what we want to do.” I could tell that Sugiryuu was doing the mental reptilian equivalent of a facepalm from Orochi’s title for our young clan head.

But...oh.

We’re already looking at the future? But _now_ ? When the past wasn’t even _close_ to being settled yet?

I temporarily focused back on my chakra sensing (balled away and suppressed for the majority of three days because grief was contagious damnit) and could barely hold back the sigh when the bits of emotions in the chakra of my clanmates threatened to overwhelm me. The adults were fine, but most children had close to no control over what they leaked into the ying half of their life energies.

Trying to block out the feedback was always difficult, but distance and practice over the past few days had helped considerably. In such close quarters though, I’m honestly surprised that it took me conscious effort to remove the mental block instead of having it shattered like an extremely stressed dam.

“Suijami-san, once the wills are read, is there anywhere in particular that you are interested in going?” I… do not understand why they would ask me, a six year old, that, but whatever. I have known for quite a while on what I want to do next, a decision that would’ve been revealed soon anyways even without our fifteen-year-old clan leader’s prompting.

Giving off an air of thinking by scrunching my brows and running a hand along Dōsukēru’s scales, I looked up and answered (with fake confidence and fire, no doubt), “Konoha.” 

* * *

What was the point of asking us if they didn’t take any of our decisions into account?

From a logical perspective, asking a roomful of recently orphaned kids of the last of a clan what they plan to do with the rest of their lives is _probably_ a bad idea, but at least give us some sense of being in control of our paths? Please?

At least the group with the authority (three guesses which four, the first two don’t count) let us try to argue our point. The kids a bit older than I were slammed down for their insistence on going back to beat the stuffing out of the remaining Suna nin “while they’re soft and squishy and weak from losing around two hundred of their ninja over the course of a single day.” Their words, not mine.

As tempting as the thought is, there’s only about six combat-ready Kinme humans right now, not to mention most of our partners were in various stages of recovering from poison and thus unfit for strenuous activity such as combat. Besides, if they were soft, squishy, and weak, why the hell would they have been able to commit genocide with an expectation for success?

Because they weren’t. Suna, stripped down to the bare bones, was still a major ninja village with ANBU, Shukaku, a functioning Kazekage, and a military force numbering around/over ten thousand.

It made sense, however, that the questions for the future were asked before the opening of the wills of our clan members.

The mess hall at the end of day three was completely filled with glass eggs of various sizes, and the messenger snake had left after declaring that there were no more bodies that could be recovered. We ignored his hiccup and how his scales seemed particularly dull, hush gossip informed me that his nestmates, nestlings, and partner had all perished.

It’s a bit of a tragedy that the corpses of my clanmates our partners are all encased in a glass covering. On one hand, we get them back, which is a lot better than what some of the other clans can get. On the other hand, glass means that we can pretty much see exactly how and why they died, and if the particular clansmen was _very_ (un)lucky, most of the pieces are there too. I don’t know how the younger ones will deal with this trauma when even the older ones will have trouble wiping some of these images from their mind’s eye.

It’s also telling that I didn’t know what to think considering half of them are alone in their glass eggs, but I could barely suppress an irrational flare of anger when I saw kaa-chan’s final resting place, without Manda. Not anger _at_ Manda, but _for_ him. He was never the most even-tempered of the lot, but now he’s going to be so unbalanced I don’t know if we can ever get back our uncle figure.

I sat vigil the entire third night, health and safety be damned, it’s not like any of the other kids slept anyways. We were a bit too distraught, and a night of nightmares was not something the adults needed.

On the morning of the fourth day, a Kaguya came down to our grieving (extremely sleep-deprived) lair and brought us a basket of dried meat, preserved/pickled vegetables, and a packet of fruits, not to mention an offering of strong tea.

The meagre amount barely being enough to feed the lot of us, but we made do once we realized that I still had some random cooking ingredients in some of my seals. After some experiments with the cooking products, however, barely a fourth of it was still edible. Despite my tendency from Before of constantly nearly burning the kitchen down (I blame technology that I no longer have), nobody seemed to think that I should be allowed to add that much sugar to flour with chocolate and other stuff.

Chocolate chip cookies are supposed to be comfort food, dammit.

Unfortunately, the Kaguya also brought us news that they’ll be leaving the area in a bit over two days, as it would cast suspicion on them if they stuck around Suna outside of their usual schedule right after the Kinme clan was “Exterminated for unethical experimentation and backstabbing clients.”

That type of bullshit is _exactly_ the reason why our clan never stayed in one village for too long. Stay too short and be accused of being spies, stay too long and be accused of sleeper agents? Village bullshit politics are not needed for a free, roaming, _science_ \- _orientated,_ nerd-filled clan.

So we might be a bit cold and emotionally stunted when concerning outsiders, so what? Uzumaki Kenta dealt just fine, as did all the others that choose to stay with us via marriage, adoption, or just flocking towards us fellow nerds.

Whatever, what’s done is done, but hell will _freeze_ before I spare Suna nin mercy.

Now with a deadline, it sort of gave us a bit more purpose. Rather systematically, our clan leader magicked from somewhere a list of wills for all of our deceased classmates. It took us the entire afternoon to read through the legacy of our clan’s deceased, and with the looming suggestion of our eventual splitting up, the remnants was divided amongst us.

As anticipated, some of the wills sounded rather rehearsed and dry, probably due to them being cynical while still in the living and constantly re-writing the details of what to do in case of permanent sleep. Being a ninja does not do wonders for one’s lifespan, much less when your neighbor might accidentally blow something up.

But most, _most_ were rather lighthearted. I think those were the ones that didn’t completely immerse themselves as ninjas and chose to spend some of time alive doing activities that didn’t have a guillotine hanging over their necks. Of course, some experiments weren’t the safest especially with our habit of trying it ourselves first, but, _details_.

They probably knew that if they died, it would’ve been due to some massive event that could likely have traumatized the remaining Kinme.

Going down that vein of thought probably wasn’t what the authors of the wills intended, as they were trying to cheer us up even in a place that they can’t return from, but…

They shouldn’t have needed to do so if this goddamn world believed in peace more.

At least it occasionally cracked open some small watery smiles and broken laughter amidst everyone’s fogged up vision. No one is ever truly immune to grief.

The only will that was explicitly addressed to Orochi and I was kaa-chan’s, which can basically be summed up as “don’t die, survive, claw your way to the top because I believe in you, and we’ll be watching you live with no regrets from the Pure World.” There was no question as to who the ‘we’ denoted, and there was a little note folded in that listed a bunch of names that we could collect favours from. Unfortunately, most of them began with ‘Kinme’, and the rest were probably all scattered clan names with a few Uzumaki’s thrown in. There were also some unsubtle hints of sticking around Uzushio, Konoha or otherwise allied countries, but I already know where I need to go.

When tou-chan’s possessions that were temporarily looked over by kaa-chan ended up in my hands, I could only stare blankly as the heart-hole that I thought healed opened again. When Kaa-chan’s black box came to rest within the white-knuckled grip of Orochi and her ( _too large_ ) blade slung over a shoulder, neither of us commented. We both knew that it was because everything between us was meant to be shared, besides, I’m _quite sure_ that Orochi would be able to do more with tou-chan’s research anyways, or will once he’s old enough. But… it was all the better that Orochi kept kaa-chan’s blade, as I don’t need a sharp object to tear open a new heart-wound.

Hikaru didn’t have any more close relatives to pass anything on, but due to the multitude of the dead, he still inherited quite a bit when all of the previous possible receivers were dead.

All of us inherited a lot, actually, six or seven black boxes on average actually. But that’s on average. In reality, Orochi and I had nine passed down to us altogether, and Hikaru got six.

Even then, what a time to come in handy, tiny black boxes and their binders of storage seals, just like the ashes of clan members that we don’t get to completely keep.

(Half is sprinkled into a special, ceremonial urn in the snake’s realm, even that of the non-pure-blooded Kinme’s unless specified. Half kept with the living, for burial, upkeep, whatever the living desires and the dead wishes.)

But… none of us know what to do with so many material belongings. Even if most of the Kinme’s like hoarding miscellaneous items for random usage, it doesn’t mean that the rest of us have a desire to keep them. That probably meant that tonight we’ll be spending much too long on sorting through the inheritance of dead clan members.

_And how painful is that? Knowing that they aren’t around to defend their last possessions?_

It didn’t stop any of us from opening the boxes though, nor did it prevent us from flipping open the binders and quickly going through what is in each seal by the captions underneath. As a general consensus, the journals and research notes were (mostly) all removed and placed onto a couple temporary shelves (also removed from selected seals), for later transportation to the snake’s realm. The librarian there will sort the notes better than we ever could, and summoning a list of the books was legitimately two puffs of chakra away. There was a lot of journals and research notes and over half was _so_ disorganized I couldn't even grasp how the original authors functioned. I made special note of where tou-chan and kaa-chan’s research work was, so as to perhaps _snag_ them away before being sent off with a snake for sealing. The Snake Sage will be gaining a lot more scale-tattoo-seal things in very short order.

There was a tug on my sleeve. “Nee-chan, what’s a bin-go book?”

“It’s a book with bounties and information detailing missing-nin and strong ninjas of different places.” Then I blinked. And did a double take. Didn’t kaa-chan stop taking bounty missions after Orochi was hatched?

“Pass me that, please?” Golden eyes flicked to me for a second before he grudgingly passed it into my waiting hand, I ignored how the adorable little tyke tried to discreetly rub the underside of Dōsukēru’s jaw when he sidled up to me with the action. I also ignored his slightly stumbling shift because there was no snake perched on his left shoulder.

Hikaru leaned over my shoulder as well when I flipped open the most recent copy of Suna’s bingo book, distracted from the task of sorting through some of the (now his) stuff.

I flipped open to the back cover (for some reason read left to right instead of the way I was expecting), and fumbled. Crammed between the last pages was a tiny sheet of paper inscribed with panicked, barely legible writing. _Kaa-chan’s writing_.

That’s when it hit me. Half of the remaining couple that had created my existence and brought me to this world, was gone.

The one that saw me through the thick and thin of a childhood in a war-cultured world died in battle.

The mother and father that had changed my diapers and fed me, cleaned me, clothed me, _taught me I was safe_ , were gone.

The one last human that has known me since my birth well enough to identify my tells, habits, and everything in between was gonegone _gone –_

Dead. Just like over seventy percent of all the people I’ve actually knew in this new life.

The worst thing? I already _have_ the loss of an entire world, not to mention having everything I knew ripped away once. Whether this makes it easier or worse can only be told by time, but the children, the _children_.

They’re the only ones really left that matters.

Fine, the adults are around, but what are the odds that _adult sensor-nin_ aren’t just killed on a mission “accidentally” when they choose to settle down in a village? Children are much easier to mold than adults, mentally-wise, not to mention it could reduce possible attachments of the children to the remaining adults whom most definitely have biased opinions towards different subjects. Subjects from a logical and scientific point of view that most ninja villages might not agree on.

And if the paper scrawled with urgent writing proved anything correct, then Suna had virtually set up a bounty for anyone that is seen close to snakes. As in, fifty thousand ryo for the head’s of a Kinme and their snake, and seventy-five thousand if delivered alive and capable of coherent thought. It was the shaky writing that scared me the most, as it declared living children under the age of five (very impressionable and liable to develop Stockholm syndrome or whatever), have a bounty of ninety-thousand ryo.

And this was the bounty book of Suna, the village that in the future known to have a crappy economy and not a whole lot of clans. _Hell,_ it wasn’t even _Kumo_ , who had/will have a reputation as a village that tries to ‘grow’ bloodlines via kidnapping kids from _Konoha_ , a village that has never lost any wars.

Maybe this is what caused the overkill number of ninjas sent to ‘exterminate’ us? Capturing is much harder than killing, after all. That can be exemplified quite well by how there’s only thirteen of us left.

I fear what could have possibly elicited such a response from Suna.

(I also felt a wrong sense of pride that none of my clansmen chose live-capture over death-freedom)

But… this could definitely work in my favour. If Suna was desperate enough to offer up such a high amount of bounties for my clansmen, dead or alive, then there must be conflict brewing somewhere. As one of the last clans that virtually refused to become tethered to any individual village, it is sorta evident why Suna didn’t want us roaming around too much, especially with all the time we spend in the desert.

I tried to quash down the feelings of injustice that I felt because Suna didn’t trust a _ninja_ clan to keep secrets. The feeling was not quashed. It grew like a stubborn dandelion (I swear those things could even live on Mars given the chance) because dammit, if we didn’t know how to keep secrets, how the seven hells would a _science_ -orientated _ninja_ clan be able to survive this long?

Annnnd, off my brain goes. The point is, the more Suna tries to desperately capture/kill my clan, the more the other villages will be interested, and a potential clan genocide when there’s people from all over the bloody Elemental Nation considers the Kinme as kin and family, or even blatantly living with us, well.

Suna’s rep isn’t going to be going up in anyone’s books.

It might’ve worked if they managed to actually capture/kill all of us, but nope. They failed, and we’ll make sure it’s a permanent type of fail. Our clan leader ordered us, tears and glass and iron in her will, that as long as we live, as long as _any_ Kinme of this generation lives, not a single one of our clan will choose to willingly reside in Suna.

When everybody from the youngest to the oldest all bowed down to her (the youngest stumbling and red-eyed), it felt more like a vow and considering Kishimoto somehow declaring that Orochimaru actually did become immortal, well. This generation may last for quite a while.

Annnnd, that’s off tangent again. What I’m getting at is that the situation works in my favour to get into Konoha. Tobirama is known as a nerd within the science/experimentation/logic circles of gossip (and a terror to everyone else who’s in on the ninja gossip grapevine), meaning that he’ll probably be more accepting of children, especially when they are orphans of an intellectual-based clan. Perhaps not in that order. The summoning contract may be a plus too, despite it probably never leaving my clan.

Unless Anko. But she’s Anko.

I think I might need some reins for my mind, especially with the odd looks I’m targeted with via concerned brother and cousin.

“Is nee-chan ok?”

I ruffled Orochi’s short, somewhat spiky hair.

“Yup, I think I found a way to get into Konoha without anyone dying.” 

* * *

Turns out, Hikaru and Ume wasn’t all that agreeable when it came to what we’re supposed to do later. The both of them were rather dead set on going to Uzushio with some of the other Kinme, which admittedly is a good plan, but I was also rather insistent on heading to Konoha.

Decisions, decisions and too much tension resulted in us giving each other a cold shoulder.

At least Orochi said that he’ll just follow me wherever, albeit with a lot more clinging and whispering and random glances out of the corner of his eyes. I think he was trying to be discreet?

He wasn’t. Perhaps with time he’ll grow to be one of the strongest shinobi to walk this bloodied earth, but for now he’s just my little brother, partner to a snake summon named Sugiryuu, newly orphaned of our one remaining parent, and a tad concerned over whether or not his sibling has gone off the deep end.

I crunched on a piece of jerky (aka dried mystery meat) as I searched for more arguments I could add for going to Konoha with Orochi in tow. So far, it mainly consisted of: Tobirama is Hokage, they’re allied with Uzushio, they’re a large country, Konoha has a lot of clans (very exuberant founders a la Hashirama and too much charisma), the Inuzuka and Hatake clans resides there where working with summon/nin-companions are common and not looked down upon, uhhh, almost everyone there has the potential to be a nerd, and what else? Umm, They could get into conflicts with Suna, the land is big and there’s a lot of variation in climate in case certain experiments required stuff, there’s a friggin forest of death with _so much potential_ , and they are all friendly treehuggers.

Whatever. I’m only supposed to be six years old, so these arguments should be enough.

I rehearsed Orochi on what he should say in case asked as well, so what if it seemed manipulative? If a timestream ever existed, it would probably be trying to get Orochi to Konoha anyway, not like I ever cared about _time_ after all, it’s but a figment of our imagination. Or rather, it’s a phenomena thingy that co-exists with space, until one gets into astrophysics. Then distance is measured in time.

...Whatever, screw physics. We have chakra and seals. Actually, this world has _Uzumaki_ , if that isn’t a great big middle finger to the existence of physics, I don’t know what is.

Annnnd I shouldn’t be spacing out in the middle of a clan meeting, should I?

“Suijami, for all that is still gold, speak your arguments of why you want to go to Konoha before we decide to split up.” Whoops, methinks I pissed off my clan leader. At least being pissy means she isn’t too busy being sad?

_Ha, a Kinme’s multitasking should never be underestimated._

“Uhh, I wanna go to Konoha because– because–” _dammit brain, work already–_ “The Hokage is Senju Tobirama who likes science and stuff and not Hashirama that doesn’t understand– understand– _for science!_ ” I… just ended up screeching our unsaid clan motto, didn’t I? That was not part of the plan.

Oh well.

“And um, they are very good with clans, and they’re friends with the Uzumaki, and– and– _oww_ Dōsukēru what was that for?” I pouted a bit at my blue-scaled partner that had whacked me upside the head with her tail, despite it being expected.

She ignored me, but continued where I left off in my not-so decent explanation. I blame kaa-chan, a tendency to mimic, and the so-called reality that six-year olds should not be able to formulate too many logical reasonings.

“What Suijami is trying to say,” cue pointed glare from Dōsukēru, “is that Tobirama will accept us into the village because of our clan’s reputed love, respect, and altogether prowess in science. Also that despite being orphans, we can survive well because the Great Shinobi War ended not very recently so that there are lots of orphans who have probably struck out a living or found a home, hence plenty of spots in perhaps even clan orphanages, and Konoha is the Great Village that is most accepting of clans. Not to mention they are allied with Uzushio and Takumi village, who they would risk alie– alienating if they maltreated the children of other allies.” She’s had my respect since the day I considered her pretty much part of what makes us, _us_ , but _damn_ , she just earned it all over again. Even if our arguments are sort-of based on the fly, it’s the thought that counts.

“And why should Orochimaru go to Konoha with you? He’s young, without a defined personality to make decisions off of, and recently orphaned.” I bristled at the accusations and– Sheesh. We did not need that reminder. At all. Thanks for bringing up the dead parents. Who are both _dead_. “Never mind that both of you are too young to hold any real power, you would not be able to sustain yourselves on clan inheritance alone even if we discounted the politicians and other characters that make villages political venus-flytraps.”

That’s a pretty good point. Dangit.

“But if we show enough po– potential, then they wouldn’t want to touch us too much, right? And Orochi and I are a pa –package deal because if Hikaru goes to Uzushio, then we’d be our only blood left!” I argued back, stuttering just enough over the _big_ words to not cause too much suspicion, and perhaps with a touch of incoherency that wasn’t all that feigned.

Suddenly the clan leader sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, eyes squinted at us so only a thin slit of gold bisected by a sliver of black could be seen.

“You… are really set on going to Konoha?”

“Yup!” I agreed cheerily, or as cheerily as possible under the conditions allowed.

“Fair enough, we’ll ask the Yuki if they can drop the few of you off at one of Konoha’s outposts after everyone finds a route.”

_Why the hell is she relenting so easily?_

“Thank you Hime-sama!”

With that, I bounced out of the meeting room to all the other children who’ve decided on where to go, or rather, where they were _allowed_ to go.

Ie: Uzushio, Takumi village, Hidden (insert village name that’s _not_ Suna here), and Konoha. Surprisingly, Orochi and I will be the only ones going to the village of tree lovers as most of the others have decided to stick to Uzushio or Takumi. It makes sense, but not what I would do if my “future knowledge” holds correct. In the bits and pieces that I can still recall, Takumi fell into poverty due to some reason or another, and Uzushio… sort of died. Sort of.

Shit. I’m going to have to warn them somehow, right?

Orochi was pretty much ‘interviewed’ right after me, and he came out pretty soon with a smug looking Sugiryuu perched on a shoulder like a scaly, no-limbed parrot.

Speaking of the snakes, there’s good and bad news. On the upside, almost all of them made it, meaning there are currently fifteen summoning snakes in our world at the moment (the two youngest, the only two younger than Orochi and Sugiryuu, didn’t survive, and a few clansmen had more than a single snake hatch with them). On the downside, they now have somewhat compromised chakra systems, and will have to consume _live_ prey with a legit chakra system on a more regular basis to keep their own networks intact. I do not understand how the ever loving heck the adults came to such a conclusion, but it makes a bit more sense than no side-effects at all. Unfortunately. Even the snakes that had departed for the summonings realm had to receive a dose of the antidote, Manda apparently included.

On the almost completely unrelated side, we will be getting the rest of our sealing tattoos early. They include to some extent the summoning tattoos that will connect us to Manda (Orochi and I agreed to share his ‘contract’ to lessen the drain on us, and so Manda can be stabilized quicker), the other random ass storage seals that act as red herrings or convenient storage space, a few random knick-knacks that could be used to simplify life or be sold at decent prices, and etc. Not to mention, each of us were handed a booklet on clan traditions (in case of clan genocide the paranoid ones had said) that will be going into a seal over the left collarbone.

Well, looks like the Kinme clan was rightly paranoid.

The snakes also got two more storage seals, one located in the back of their throats, and one on the roof of their mouths. Snakes shed, so those were probably the optimal positions.

The tattooing of the kids and their partners not heading off with the adults took most of the fourth night as the adults and Hime-sama had spent the daytime on interrogating the children on future plans. It worked out pretty well, as we were sedated in the duration and so actually received a nearly full-night’s sleep.

Everyone participating as a tattoo-seal-artist however, ended up chugging down too much coffee in the morning to prepare for the departure at noon.

So with patches of aching, scratchy skin, the entity of the remaining Kinme’s and our remaining summons watched as we burned down the mess hall, or clan hall as it really is.

The inferno consumed everything, the tables, chairs, podium, and all the seals that generations of Kinme and random others added to. But above all, it gave our deceased a viking funeral. From previous, unneeded experience, I know that the ‘glass’ is particularly flammable, and that nothing will be left accept unidentifiable ashes.

To perform this act, we had all went back above ground, which was freezing because it was still bloody _winter_ , and ended up with penguin clusters of Kinme children surrounded by adults, watching the blaze eat everything. The mess hall was sealed and resealed aboveground so it wasn’t six feet under, and for the first time most of us could ever recall, we saw the actual, outer walls of the hall.

Somehow, it was steel.

(Somehow, it was almost everything that I have grown to know and love)

Somehow, it still burned.

I blame physics and chakra. Which don’t really mix. So, uhhh, never mind.

The penguin huddle was rapidly dispersed into smaller clusters after the fire consumed everything, mainly due to the repulsion forces wielded by snot and tears.

Like I said, the adults that survived aren’t very good with kids,  but they _are_ somehow good at picking bone ash out of everything-else ash. 

* * *

_Nor are they good at goodbyes_ , I thought drily, and all that much amused with an unamused face plastered on.

Our Oro-dubbed “Hime-sama-chan” was flitting about us all anxiously, softly asking the soon to depart children whether or not we’ll be ok “almost alone in the world, without parents or the rest of the clan.” She was fidgeting enough that her partner ended up whapping her upside the head nearly every fifth step.

The answer though, is quite obviously a resounding _no_ , but perhaps this was just her way to try to keep us all together. By guilt-tripping children.

Silly leader, it’s not like we won’t ever meet again.

(Pure land, afterlife, whatever comes after, those meetings count, right?)

The other adults, who I’ve finally temporarily remembered the names of, stood around awkwardly and fussed over the children gathered around their legs while a few Yuki sat in the background. They were resting up, preparing to take us all on the Yuki Waterways to wherever we need to find ourselves. If they get lost in that maze of mirrors that they set up, I would be _pissed_ , especially since only four of the kids, including Orochi and I, were going to split off from the main groups. But then again, when the main groups only have around four and five people each, they can’t be considered big either, can they?

When Hime-sama fidgeted her way to me, I tried not to feel bad about leaving. It was something we had to do, or it better be.

“Suijami-chan, Dōsukēru-chan, take care ok? Orochimaru-kun and Sugiryuu-kun will need someone to teach them how to be part of who we are, and you two will be the only ones that can do so.” Her eyes were slightly red-rimmed, showing through as a light tinted brown through her ordinarily green clan markings. The bags under her eyes were also unhealed by the miracle known as coffee. She leaned down and gave the four of us a group hug, nose buried in my hair, then Orochi’s, inhaling our scents for probably the last time in a long long while.

“I will take care of nee-chan too! Hime-sama-chan! And Sugiryuu will take care of Dōsukēru-nee! We– we can–” _oh gods,_ “we’ll take care of each other because, like, we are family and– and” the waterworks are coming “snakes of a scale slither synchro– chronal!” Kudos to him for saying the words tight, and kudos again for showing me that emotion is actually a thing these days other than guilt.

I scrunched my nose at the familiar sour tang and leaned my forehead onto our clan leader’s shoulder, Dōsukēru squawking a bit when the close proximity was almost enough to squash her. There was no real heat behind her incoherent warbling.

All too suddenly, it was time to leave, and Hikaru still hasn’t broken the tense silence that had stretched between us when I declared our ( _my_ ) intent to go and fraternize with tree-huggers.

With a mental age literally _years_ above his, I should probably be the one to apologize and not leave on a sour note, but… I’ve never been good with responsibility, or communication, and my farewells are on par with awkward adult penguin huddles.

So… the hell am I supposed to do to mend this bridge?

Or actually, seeing as Orochi was dragging me over to the lonely silhouette of Hikaru, _I_ don’t need to do anything at all.

“Nee-chan, be nice to Hikaru-nii.” _What._

My little brother is a little, manipulative, arse in disguise. I’m onto him now.

Or, at least I will be once Dōsukēru stops snickering and Hikaru stops giving the betrayed puppy-eyed look.

It looks more like a frosted glare, but I know there’s a kicked puppy look somewhere below.

Uhhh, the hell do I do?

“Dōsukēru-nee, can you get nee-chan to not be mad at Hikaru-nee anymore?”

I blinked owlishly, then blinked again, taken back. “You thought I was _angry_ at Hikaru?”

Ignoring the subject of our little chat, my little Orochi nodded viciously, just barely hiding a pout, “yes! Because nee-chan wasn’t smiling when Hikaru-nee was around and nee-chan’s always smiling!”

Our clan just died. Did he honestly expect me to be smiling?

“Like now! You look pi–pis–” I slapped a hand over Orochi’s mouth, gently.

“Whoever taught _my_ little brother how to swear is going to die a very gruesome death,” I reached over to snag Hikaru’s sleeve, “and you’re going to help me.”

Apparently taking my hand away from Orochi’s face was a bad idea because he proceeded to cheerfully complete the sentence. “Nee-chan looks pissed!”

“Who needs to die?” questioned Hikaru, grim as he can be. The plume coloured snake coiled around his waist gave a flick of her tongue in agreement. No one is allowed to teach Orochi how to swear, or at least not until he’s old enough to kill those that hears him do so.

The next ten minutes were the funnest in the last week of my life, as the three of us “interrogated” numerous clansmen of whether they did or did not use “bad words” around an innocent looking Orochi that I held up. I think it bemused a lot of the present company, but parting on a semi-confused and amused terms will always be better than a depressed one.

As Orochi’s only a bit older than three, I got to pick him up. Getting to shove him into people’s faces however, is a plus side and prime blackmail material that will be around forever.

Hikaru standing to the side and scowling what he probably imagines to be an intimidating scowl made me want to ruffle his hair, if only I wasn’t lugging around an Orochi the entire time. One can never have too many hands. Or _can_ they?

Then time was up much to the regret of us all, and a buff-looking Yuki (now I’ve seen everything) crouched down in front of us.

“Did _you_ teach my brother how to swear?” I accused while holding Orochi up to the Yuki’s face, Hikaru crossing his arms in a mocking attempt of being a bodyguard somewhere behind me. I could hear Dōsukēru inside my yukata despairing about the idiot trio and Sugiryuu’s muffled agreements to her mumblings.

The Yuki just chuckled, then straightened up whilst holding me when I was still holding my cargo.

_Is this going to become a thing?_

“ _I_ didn’t, but but perhaps it’s time to split up and hunt down whoever that did so, don’t you think so, little hatchlings?” His voice was smooth, like cool water over rounded rocks in a summer. The words however, felt like anything but.

I looked down, and noticed the reddening of my remaining family’s eyes.

“It’s time to leave?” I questioned the presence holding me up.

A nod later, and I was sitting on his shoulders while Orochi was cradled in the crook of the Yuki’s left arm. Hikaru stepped back, holding back red-rimmed eyes that we can all see, and I winced inwardly.

Ume wound her way around my little cousin’s waist before lifting her plum-coloured head to gently nudge against Hikaru’s forehead, and Sugiryuu poked his head out of Orochi’s yukata.

“See you around, Ume-san,” hissed the youngest snake of our lot, “we might be able to visit.”

It suddenly dawned on me that because of the close relations between Uzushio and Konoha, it’s actually _plausible_ for us to visit the rest of my clan, and vice versa.

I raised a hand to wave at Hikaru from way atop the shoulders of the Yuki, the other perhaps gripping a bit too tightly on his bandanna-like head accessory. Whoops.

Then a few more hasty waved farewells was all I could do before the Yuki started jumped down into one of the tunnels leading away and an incoherent jumble of _holycrapI’mfalling_ mixed with _toofasttoofastgravitysucks_ was all that stayed in my mind. For a somewhat logical reason, I believe that all the other thoughts were sucked out via gravity. For a definitely non-logical reason, I believe that if we fell any longer we would impact the mantle and die. This I deem illogical because we would be dead from heat long before actually hitting the mantle (air friction/resistance and etc), and not the actual logical reasonings that would make this illogical, which was that random _Yukis_ , aka the clan of _ice-users,_ wouldn’t jump into the mantle and expect to survive.

If I’m just making excuses for my screeching my head off, well.

Falling at terminal velocity and then being bounced back up _sideways_ at negative terminal velocity tends to do that to people.

(I wonder at the last impression that will be left imprinted on the minds of my clansmen, two kids screaming like banshees disappearing down a hole can’t be normal.

Then again, screw normal.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm... Blame life? Sorry about the late update, but life hates me atm. As compensation, here's an extra long chapter?  
> (It was only supposed to be 4000 words or so before it blew up in my face)  
> Hopefully the next chapter won't take two months (sorry).  
> ~Cadriona Morningwing  
> Uploaded: April 13, 2017


	16. The Road Occasionally Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which travelling is a bit of a pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Naruto

Never will I admit that my screaming fit lasted almost five more seconds after bouncing through the first mirror. In my defense, I would’ve continued screaming if I could pull enough air into my lungs.

As it was, if gravity maintained its constant grip on us, then our falling speed would’ve increased by nearly ten meters per second for every second falling. Orochi had a much better time, as the Yuki whom I still haven’t caught the name of had him cradled in the crook of an arm, and firmly clasped to make sure that he won’t fall off or anything.

I… wasn’t so lucky.

For some reason, the Yuki just had me sit on his shoulders, and let me grab onto the bandana for all that I was worth. I couldn’t tighten my legs _too_ much around his neck for obvious reasons, and bandanas really don’t offer much in way of grip. Honestly, he just reminds me of a kinder, less scared, paler, and hairier Ibiki.

(I don’t always pride myself on my imaginations)

He didn’t have any hands to stabilize me either, as one of them was keeping Orochi in check and the other was holding a handseal to maintain the jutsu.

So, I screamed until my dear ol’ snake-buddy of mine decided to slap her tail over my face. With the wind, it might’ve been accidental, but whatever. I nearly choked because high speeds plus obstruction-in-front-of-nose means drawing in enough oxygen was a tad difficult.

At least it resulted in a ninety percent less screaming? (The ten percent internal screaming never really stops, whoops.)

It however, had the drawback of me gurgling a bit as the wind (relative to us moving at extreme speeds) tore the air out from my lungs. Hence scrunching down and trying to bury my face in the bandana that was my sole hope of not being lost to the darkness of underground caves. Which are really dark. And windy due to relative speed/velocity/physics. Night vision is a long, drawled out _no_ here.

That said, if Yukis can’t sense the chakra in their mirrors for extreme navigation, I would eat my daggers. In the stark darkness, only the brief flares of light when we transfer dimensions (and wasn’t _that_ an interesting way to think about it?) can illuminate our surroundings. The brief flashes did nothing for our night vision, so the only reason that I knew Orochi was curled up with head tucked in was because that was the shape of his chakra.

In addition to clinging like a goddamn koala, my little brother and I both had to someway circulate our chakra in a manner so we didn’t freeze.

I miss the times when I could love winter without the fear of it killing me.

Being coiled around my neck and looped about my shoulders, Dōsukēru slowly removed the tail that had ended up in my face, wary of air currents that could potentially rip her off and therefore extremely cautious of her movements. Then she sneezed and it was all we could do to hold onto each other, chakra somehow granting a temporarily magnetic-like influence with how she then stuck to me.

That’s actually a _decent idea though_?

Tugging on my chakra, I concentrated on its flow for a second. Like always, it felt calm but energizing, and flowed around veins, muscles, bones, every identifiable organ, and even in them. Particularly the area around the stomach. From experience and random scrolls, I know that it’s the pool of chakra that everyone pulls from, but honestly, how the heck was such a small location supposed to contain so much energy to power ninjas for _days_?

The answer was that it wasn’t alone.

Unlike the swirling, vortex-like chakra source in the stomach tenketsu or something (names always elude me for some inane reason), the chakra spread everywhere else in the body flows with barely any friction, giving the impression that there might not be much.

That is so damn wrong it's almost refreshing.

Ying chakra is basically mind chakra, strength of the soul, mind, and all that not-so physical energy that’s turned somewhat physical via impossible chakra physics. I have too much of it on account of being an reincarnated soul, so my chakra balance is out of whack half the time. Then there’s yang chakra, that’s the strength of the body, bones, muscles, organs, and everything physical, but somehow still ‘physical’ energy that can be harnessed as source of power without hamster wheels.

The organs, specifically the pool of chakra in the stomach, is the most prominent because chakra naturally goes to organs and other assorted body parts to sustain them with more energy than needed, hence a ninja’s speeded metabolism and unusually fast recoveries from internal injuries. Unfortunately, it also provides more room for error, as speeded healing can occasionally result in incorrectly grown tissue in the ninja population.

What with the stomach and intestines and everything in that region being the provider of energy via food digestion or something, it also became the storage for this supernatural-ish energy. The stomach is a bit like a factory and storehouse mashed into one. Or at least, that’s my theory. Bio was never a subject I took Before, so most information regarding this aspect is purely guesswork if not previously proven by my clanmates.

Funny how much one can learn via osmosis, or when one chooses to copy texts for pocket money.

Suddenly a hand tapped my shoulder and I subconsciously rolled it back a bit, chakra flowing just that bit faster under the layers of clothing and skin. Dōsukēru sits there, and I may or may not be a bit of an overprotective/paranoid human, but nobody gets to touch her without her permission. Permission that she always communicate to me ahead of time.

We've all lost too much recently to be agreeable with unwarrented interactions.

But the hand merely revealed itself as that of the Yuki, who I still haven’t caught the name of (and probably never will, at this rate), he was probably curious why I stopped screaming and if that meant I was going to fall off anytime soon via fainting. If this was concern, well, I’m quite sure I haven’t been screaming for a while now.

Tugging a bit harder on my chakra, it cycled through my system at a more efficient rate, warming bones and blood (even then, my body temperature would still be far below the medical accepted average, oh well). Then I used the chakra to stick a hand a bit too firmly to the fabric of his bandanna, like extreme friction. Therefore when he felt a palm tap the side of his head, well, he would know that the kid he’s piggy-backing isn’t about to die anytime soon. The same method after the little experimentation was also used to keep a hold of Dōsukēru, as we did not need to be completely stuck to each other with the normal, tree-walking-esque methods. Truth to be told, I’m envious of those that can use chakra reflexively without thinking. Unlike them who can easily run up and down the sides of buildings, I have to maintain a slow, steady pace to coordinate the chakra use correctly. Apply chakra to stick on, move other foot after removing the chakra, stick that foot on, unstick the other, rinse and repeat.

It’s tedious work, but hopefully practice can make it second nature.

But… if one hand just tapped me, and another hand is keeping a hold on my brother (at least it better be if the Yuki wants to keep his head), then _why the hell_ did he need to hold the hand seal for so damn long?

It would’ve been very comforting to know that he could free a hand anytime to catch little midgets and snakes falling from his shoulders. Or would he catch the snakes? That would be a hypothesis awaiting tests that I would never be do.

A bit of messing around with my senses eventually told me that his chakra was held somewhat rigidly, structured in a way probably just plain-out needed to enable the mirror-hopping. Hand seals are fickle things that somehow manage to manually program our chakra to do things, or something. If a comparison is warranted, perhaps a bit like acupuncture or pressure points? I recall someone from Before teaching me how a pressure point on the hand is good for the liver, and another is good for sleep among others. Each hand seal is like a signal to our chakra to tell it to do a somewhat basic action, and holding the last seal in concentration allows the passageways to hold the chakra in the needed position.

Or at least that’s what some of my clan members assumed hand seals did, I fully agree.

How Tobirama ever made so many jutsus, I will never understand. How people learn jutsu just by learning hand seals, I will never understand as well. The Uchihas’ way of learning, however, does make a bit of sense, as it sees all layers of what the chakra is going through, like seeing both the manual and the actual inner workings of a machine, while it’s working. The only reason _I_ can learn jutsu at all is probably due to my rather… detailed chakra sensing. Being from somewhere else originally resulted in my chakra being a bit harder to manipulate by hand seals alone, as my body is too conscious and therefore rendering some of the manipulations pretty much moot. The manual is just _that much_ too vague for my liking.

Anyhow, praise the kamis and all seven layers of hell for my sensing abilities, otherwise I may never be able to fight on the same stage as all the other monsters in human skin. Monsters as human as the rest of us, sure, but monsters in capabilities all the same.

Given how the Yuki currently holds four lives in his grasp while hopping through ice mirrors at over fifty meters per second (I calculated via physics), point proven.

Given how nearly my entire clan was brutally massacred just a week or so ago, that probably proves the same point another time over.

Nobody ever said that monsters couldn’t be saints, but most humans aren’t saints either.

Whelp. That was mildly morbid.

Time to lighten the nonexistent mood.

Uhh, methinks the Yuki has given up on communicating with me via anything past head-pats if the bare shrug that moved me three mirrors after I patted him was any indication.

Time went on, on, and on, and so did our process through the near-pitch dark tunnel.

Running random calculations relating to the physics of our speed got boring after I started beating myself up for not knowing our real initial velocity, and all my nerves were too keyed up for me to slip into my mind-scape and take up the role of a gardener. No biggie, the green thumb belonged to my grandma of Before, any one of the two of them. Trying to avoid a potentially carnivorous pond wasn't ever on my to-do list, anyways.

Whatever I might've wanted to do, however, didn't seem to apply to real life as I fell asleep pretty much an hour into the trip.

* * *

“Wake up nee-chan!”

“Hush young child– lemme bloody sleep...” I slurred, brain evidently not up to speed.

The same voice that had hollered into my poor malfunctioning ears grumbled, before subsiding. I sighed, happy at the little reprieve for more nap time, before a clump of something cold and melting was dropped on my neck.

Suffice to say, my urge to continue sleeping evaporated as faster than a melting snowflake in a sauna.

After a moment of adjusting to the lighting and temperature (which was too-damn bright and a bit too cold), Dōsukēru decided that I had enough downtime and made her prescence known via a nudge to the underside of my chin. It took a bit of floundering to get my hand out of the mass of blankets it was trapped in, but she got a little scratch under her jaw as soon as the hand was out.

Then she bailed on me by slithering out somewhere away from the blankets.

“Orochi,” I whined, pouting at the 'betrayal', “where are we?”

Thank kamis for responsible younger siblings despite being a three-year-old, because he soon came pattering to me from the mouth of the cave that we were apparently in, hands tucked into the deep pockets of his thick cloak-looking garment.

The wet stains quickly soaking through the fabric was the best indicator of who dunked the snow down my neck, obviously. There shall be revenge, but later, as it's been a while since I could actually admire snow up close and personal.

A bit of wrestling later and I had quickly tugged on the folded winter cloak (thankfully NOT Suna style), having been neatly left on the ground by the pile of mismatched blankets that looked... awfully like some of the blankets that we had stuffed into the black boxes a couple days prior.

Under my raised brow, Orochi took his slightly red hands out of his pockets before rustling out a map from... somewhere which he put on one of the flatter, relatively drier rocks, wouldn't want is tearing or something.

We're Kinmes with mysterious pockets in mysterious places, sue me.

When he laid out the map in front of me, Sugiryuu all but dropped down out of my brother's sleeve and nearly crinkling the paper, an annoyed hiss rolling off his forked tongue.

I gave the poor frozen serpent a little rub on his violet head before gently shoving him off the map that we _might_ need to find our future with.

He left, grumbling like a soaked cat, to where Dōsukēru was dragging the majority of the blankets. On closer side inspection, it was also where there was a little open booklet, one which has barely visible seals.

Huh. Ok. Thank gods there's at least _one_ of us that cares about organization beyond the general 'if I can find it (eventually), who cares?' mentality.

I settled down next to my little brother and watched as he looked over the map, it being the enlarged version of the elemental nations so that only Fire country was visible. It held no clue whatsoever to the whereabouts of Konohagakure, as it is hidden. Putting a hidden country on a map when it's supposed to be hidden is a bit counterproductive, even if it's a map that isn't widely spread (hence the Kinme TM, aka our clan symbol, stamp near the top of the page).

Or maybe it is, and that's why we need the stamp to proclaim our copyright of it. Who knows? Ask the merchants (who are _dead-gone-ashes_ ).

Ow my poor heart.

A couple seconds into his glaring at the map, pudgy cheeks blown pudgier in effort, little Orochi had an eureka moment and he stabbed the map with his still mildly frozen finger.

“Here! Yuki-san left us here!” Here being a patch of now-wet map between Tanzaku Gai and the entire border of River Country and Fire Country.

Crap. I just remembered my non-existent sense of direction.

Uhhh, we'll just wing it?

Rolling the map back into a scroll form, I then rolled it to Dōsukēru who gave me a rather unimpressed look. She has the sealing booklet, so she really should've expected it. Two tiny pulses of chakra along with the scent of chakra smoke accompanied the box down Dōsukēru's gullet, or rather, the storage seal in the back of her throat. It'll get to stay there with the rest of our inheritance for now.

One direction of the cave-tunnel led to darkness, lingering wisps of cold chakra, and the scent of flowing river, while the other led to too-much light and the scent of crisp winter, a scent I haven't really had the pleasure of relaxing in since over six years ago. But, relaxation can wait until there's no threat of the four of us dying from starvation, dehydration, hypothermia, boredom, or missing-nin/bounty hunters that want to make some quick cash sans the annoyance of lugging live human midgets.

Yuki-san wouldn't have left four young ones out for dead, right? And that would mean that somewhere around here would be a mean for salvation, or at least a way to hold our own.

Even then, that probably doesn't excuse my very stupid decision of flaring my meagre storage of chakra in a burst pattern that was drilled into kids since before the Clan Wars. Probably.

Hopefully the signal is international, hopefully it was strong enough, hopefully there were 'allies' in range, and kami knows, hopefully there weren't hostiles nearby.

* * *

The sun was shining, no birds were chirping, chakra was singing, and I didn't have enough shits to give to care.

Good news, the signal was strong enough.

Bad news, there was a hostile nearby.

How there was a friggin' _bear_ in the depths of the cave hibernating without any one of us noticing, I shall attribute to bad luck. But the fact that I didn't think of how attuned animals were to natural chakra naturally, well. It was a stupid decision. That, and actually assuming the possibility that a human's chakra flare would be sufficient to affect the natural chakra in the atmosphere and enough to rouse a bear in hibernation was not really normal.

In simpler terms, I might've screwed the lot of us over by not thinking?

The sole silver lining was that the bear was just exiting hibernation, and was therefore half-starved and slow, and that there were some _very_ tall trees outside the cave. But then again, _half-starved._

“Up up upup _up–“_ I was panicking, I know I was. But there were two lives depending on me (both of which being rather important to me) as the serpents had already found their way up. They weren't keen on doing so, but pressure of both the physical weighty-kind and the heavier, figurative type would've been bad. Meanwhile, the base of the tree was privy to a panicking kid trying to climb up its iced bark with another toddler attached piggy-back wise and a bear lumbering out of the cave not a dozen meters away.

The only slow thing in this scenario was me, who couldn't risk speed in case of inadequate chakra usage and falling/blowing myself off. The snakes' restless, agitated movements were also distracting in a way that I really didn't need.

Plowing plus hopping through the knee-deep snow already took much too long, and by the time I was a meter and a half off the ground on the closest tree, the bear had almost cut half the original distance– and was gaining speed on all fours. It smelled of wet fur and anger.

_Shit._

Speed was of the essence, but not something I had.

How embarrassing, the one that's nearly the fastest among my current age group (without the stamina to back it up whoops), and I'm climbing like a sloth when lives actually depend on it.

If I die of a bear attack, well. Then I would've managed something that even as a Canadian I couldn't.

But it wasn't just me, there was also the midget stuck to my back. A midget who supposedly survives bloody everything, becomes immortal, and summons a like-wise near immortal army of Hokages to fight an equally immortal horned, three-eyed tree goddess and her will given form as a black blob with teeth.

Wow Orochi's life (and mine, as a virtue of being stuck to his) is gonna be so screwed up, not even a metaphorical automatic screwdriver would cut it.

“Faster faster _faster_!” the snakes hissed, curling on a higher branch. We've all been reduced to single words and no coherent sentences at this point.

Trying to accelerate the gravity-defying shuffle didn't work, and instead almost threw off my balance. The bear was too close to be comfortable. It's chakra felt scarily empty, like a void filled only with hunger.

_Shiiiiii–_

How can we survive this without relying on non-existent outside help?

Speed? Don't have it. Ran out. Anywhere but here, really.

Brawn? I'm a snake-kid slowly freezing to death and in the other corner– now only two body-lengths away and plowing through snow like it was nearly nearly nothing– was a bear who's at least a couple hundred pounds of pissed, hungry, muscle. Yeaahhhh– _no._

Brains? Yup, but not for long.

Or actually...

Perhaps if I can't pull myself up with sticky hands, I can do so with sticky string?

Like Spiderman or a pulley system?

“The bear looks hungry...” Thanks bro, for stating the unneeded obvious.

It's not like I haven't had an abundance of stupid ideas lately, but circumstances could've been better.

Actions speak louder than thoughts.

Taking a hand off the bark was easy, especially considering that was part of the climbing process as well, but flinging the chakra string up while lengthening it along with strengthening it took much more concentration.

In fact, It almost resulted in another hand detaching from the bark, which resulted in a shift of concentration that sent the string careening off at least a foot off target.

The bear had halved its distance again and it's chakra was preparing to land a blow.

The sun peeked through bare branches and glinted off blue scales, stretched to reach the falling thread of chakra.

Thank kami, thank all the kamis.

Within the next instant, Dōsukēru had snapped back the thread and with all the advantages granted by being a chakra using snake, she swerved over and under the branch and touched the chakra string to itself, creating a nose around the thick branch.

I let go of the unstable other hand, used both to grip the thin string, and _pulled_.

Chakra is a strange thing. It can be physical and turned into... stuff, or even metaphysical and screw with the mind. Either way, it bends the laws of science to the will of the user.

This time was no exception.

The chakra string that originally was barely the thickness of a dehydrated earthworm rapidly expanded to the same diameter of my pinkie, a change rapidly accompanied by the loss of feeling (and probably warmth, not like I could feel it) all the way from my toes to nearly my bottom rib. Ah well, kids don't have much chakra, chakra distribution is a fickle thing, but least it overall provides with a better grip and life insurance?

Life insurance as in, it rapidly shortened and thus brought my little brother and I flying up the side of the tree? Thank kami that Orochi has enough control of his chakra to stick to me with a firmer grip, otherwise who knows what might happen. Also thank kami that he was smart enough to _not_ choke me with the hold he had around my neck. Oxygen deprivation could potentially result in health problems such as choking, black-outs, and death via plummeting to death or devouring by bear.

Thanking kamis had apparently become the trend lately.

A bit more focusing slowed our rapid ascent, and swinging to the bark for reattachment allowed the two of us to eventually clamber onto the tree branch proper, eight or so meters above ground. I used the same technique again to get us even higher, onto a branch with a split for a larger butt-area so the bear would be less tempted to follow us. Only in Fire country can trees have branches this high up large enough for kids and snakes to sprawl over without any fear of falling even without chakra usage. Kiri's just almost all water, Kumo is debatable, Iwa is... really rocky so perhaps extreme bonsai? And Suna is ignorable with its ever so _wonderful_ positions as a desert. So among the five large countries, there wasn't any competition at all. Tree-huggers indeed.

In fact, it's rumored that some of the border outposts are built inside some of the particularly large trees. As a person that once dreamed of going to a redwood forest in a world without bullshit chakra fertilizer, that possibility is open like the currently-non-existent canopy.

“Ohmykami thank kamis you're an amazing buddy and the best half of a soul I could ever want and–” Dōsukēru flopped onto my face, the underside of her jaw laid over the pulse on my throat.

Holy shit our hearts are beating fast.

Then she raised her tail and basically slugged my face.

“That's for not thinking through your actions.”

For the record, when chakra-enhanced, scaly-limbs are _really_ _really_ hard.

I rubbed the top of her head. “That's for saving our hides.”

There was a choking sound from around my throat, which might've came from any of us, but then we just ended up laughing and crying because we were still here, still alive.

Orochi and Sugiryuu sort of just looked from where they were varifying each others' statuses as alive and whole, used to but not really appreciative of their older sibs' antics.

Ah well, normal is the only thing that's overratted.

The angry bear snorting and faint tremors that ran through the tree every so often was also quite the evidence for the fact.

Anyways, hopefully the region that Yuki dropped us off in is on a patrol route or something, otherwise we will not be able to survive the winter. Actually, with all the resources we inherited from our... clan, we probably can, but not very well. While on that vein of thought... “Guys, whaddya think we should do with everything that the clan left us?”

I could feel Orochi's shrug from my position on the branch next to him.

“Just leave it in Ryūchi cave for now, or something. It's not like weird-looking _orphans_ can keep their inheritance when confronted by– by– greedy humans,” Sugiryuu spat.

Dōsukēru sighed from her coiled position on my stomach, but agreed with her fellow snake. “That would be wisest. Perhaps we should only bring two of the boxes? Children of a once moderately large clan won't be sent away with nothing, and it would correspond better with how there are two of you _._ ” How the _you_ meant human went largely unsaid, racism and discrimination against anything that wasn't human was quite common.

Up till now, Orochi has been worryingly quiet, but he broke his silence with a little bit of muttering.

“Pardon?”

He looked at me, exasperation evident on his roundish, baby-fat face. “Which ones do we keep for now then?”

For a three-year old, he's awfully sharp.

“Which ones do you guys think?” I asked the not-really-huddle-but-more-of-a-snake-human-dog-pile despite having narrowed down possible choices to four in my head.

The little argument that happened was a couple magnitudes larger than any of us probably thought it could've, but in the end we decided on taking two that we had stuck mostly essentials in during the period of time where we were organizing stuff. The random frivolous objects in the sealing booklet would pretty much be like a red-herring buffer, to prevent those in Konoha from thinking that we were hiding stuff from them. Which we will be, such as the pages of the binder that held our rooms, a piece of our mobile home. Those were folded into a tiny capsule which Sugiryuu then stored into the seal in the back of his throat, the actual boxes were with Dōsukēru.

None of us two kids have any decent control over our gag reflexes, enough practice to stretch our jaws, or the capability to dislocate and then restore the bone of our jaw to its rightful position.

Therefore everything somewhat required to be stored in a secure location would go to the snakes, and Sugiryuu got the honor to keep the rooms because he was younger and should therefore be under a bit less suspicion.

Should.

Anyways... So basically, essentials for living, books and random knickknack toy-things, a hammock, and the urns containing a portion of the ashes of our deceased parents for a proper burial are somewhere in an alternate dimension accessable through the back of our bonded-snakes' throats (ho shit that sounds weird). This way, if we actually might get to plead for our belongings, there would be an emotional side that we could plead for. Burying the ashes of our parents in Konoha would be a good way for us to solidify ties to the village in the eyes of everyone else, and would probably seem like a way to keep our loyalty.

Our parents' names however, would probably never be carved onto the Memorial stone, as they've never fought for the village hidden by too much foliage.

I sent up a prayer and an apology to our parents for using their remains in this manner, and the four of us sank into an uneasy silence, broken only by the angry snuffling sounds of a bear that had lost it's prey around the base of the tree.

Stretching out my hand to Dōsukēru, she gave me a _look_ before flicking out her fangs from their tucked-in position and gently pressing it into the pad of my thumb. Two failed summonings from incorrect hand seals and chakra flow later, the third finally gave me the plume of smoke that accompanied the messenger cobra. Over a hundred hand seals. _A kami-damned hundred._

And just when I had feeling back in my legs again, poof, it's gone like the shits I occasionally don't give.

Small-ass chakra pools are small.

“Put it with the rest of our stuff?” I asked?

The cobra nodded around the mouthful of boxes, seven in total (he resembled a scaly pissed chipmunk) before the thread of chakra keeping him in this world snapped, sending the poor dude through space-time.

As feeling started returning to my legs again, _slowly_ , Sugiryuu muttered something along the lines of “he better not puke over our stuff.”

We silently agreed.

Cue the return of Silence.

Then, “what about Manda?” Orochimaru asked.

The likewise questioning hiss from Sugiryuu was not really a welcoming sound, but we all subconsciously sat up a bit straighter. For a creature that's so... bendy, Manda had for some random reason always been rather adamant on proper posture.

Dōsukēru was the one to answer this question. “We won't be seeing him for a while,” a pause, hesitation while she looked anywhere but us despite being coiled right beside us. “You two will need to have enough chakra to actively sustain Manda'ss existence in this realm without harm to yourselves before he will actually allow himself to be summoned over.”

Fun fact, if they really really want to, summons can ignore their summons by using more chakra than what was used to summon them to block their way over. I used the word summon(s) three times in the same mental sentence. Yay.

Another fun fact, Manda would be able to detect the amount of chakra used to summon him over, and would very likely refuse with how he knows that Kinme children of the ages eight and under are incapable of maintaining any snake naturally longer than approximately two meters and a half without slowly being consumed by nature chakra and thereby turned to stone, like what happened to Scar. There was unfortunately a lot of scientific evidence and small snake-shaped grave stones supporting those facts, and with Manda now being probably one of the largest snake summons, well. Even if he chose to solid henge into something smaller to streamline the passage between worlds, the last instant that he would be able to see the two of us would be spent seeing the children of his partner turn into statues.

Orochi looked stricken, he knew very well how we didn't have enough chakra. In fact, even if we pool our chakra, it would take years before Manda can be called into this world. The little child sniffled, then rubbed his eyes. There were a few tears, but no sobbing, just a silent acceptance that the last living parent figure in our lives could neither be seen, heard, sensed, or even smelled for who knows how long just because we were _too weak_. The last part might've just been me thinking, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

I awkwardly shuffled over on the tree branch due to tingly legs, then awkwardly side-hugged my little brother due to us being on a tree branch, who leaned in, also in an awkward manner. Just because I didn't detest physical contact anymore didn’t mean I had to love it, and being on a tree branch with limited space just made it that much harder to be comfortable.

Then, I let out a sigh.

Orochi hummed questioningly, so the question was answered in the easiest way possible.

“We're in Fire Country now, and we're gonna become citizens of Konoha.” Generations of Kinmes, nomadic tendencies and all, are finally going to lose such a large part of who we are with only thirteen remaining clam members. By losing our freedom like this, what else of our culture are we going to lose?

None of that was spoken out loud, but perhaps it hung in the air a bit while the silence stretched on, the bear having finally given up and returned to its cave.

The silence remained unbroken even after one by one, my family dropped off to sleep while I watched the sky darken through grasping bare branches.

_Hello darkness my ol' pal, oh you brought insomnia with you. Crap. It's been a while hasn't it?_

* * *

Yamanaka Hiromi dropped soundlessly onto a tree branch, two more near-silent thuds behind her signifying her teammates; entrance, before flitting out her chakra in a weak sensing pulse, like some particular, odd version of echolocation. She knew her sensei was there, just a bit undetectable. Thirty meters away, a smaller, near-invisible chakra bundling up three others repeated the same pattern it had emitted half an hour ago, and one that it had afterwards repeatedly sent out like a soft scared beacon in the middle of the Fire Country forest. But by this point in time, it wasn't even a fifth of its original strength.

Hiromi hadn't fought in the clan wars being barely into the double-digits herself, but she knew most of its signals. Perks of being a Yamanaka, anything intel related would be taught without reservation, and codes were taught as soon as they were able to speak, handsigns even before.

So when she sensed a far-off flare some kilometers out from the outpost during a low-rank supply run mission, she immediately reported it to her sensei. Her sensei informed the outpost guards who then decided to sweep the surrounding area and alert the nearest outposts to do the same, but nothing was found.

Seeing the clump of fabric and scales strapped to a branch with a much too large camouflage-coloured tarp, it was simple to see how they were originally overlooked.

But perhaps it was also because the inhabitants of the tarp also wanted to be found this time.

As Hiromi slowly hopped her way over to the burdened tree-branch, she heard whispers from her teammates, the sharp-eyed Nara commenting to the Akimichi on how the scuff marks at the bottom of the resembled predator tracks.

Somehow, despite her sensei being a Sarutobi, she got there first, and was therefore the subject of scrutiny by a pair of annoyed, golden-eyes.

“Took you Konohans long enough,” the young girl yawned. “If a spider found me before you guys did, well. Something would've had to die.”

* * *

 **Omake** : Previously with the Yukis (Sometime before the Kinme Extermination):

Yuki Mashiro has been around for a long time. And during this long-ass time, he had the fortune to witness a Shinobi war that devastated the nations, a war far bloodier than any clan wars put together. He would know.

_Joining up into nations. Pah._

Shinobi are made, not born. But when they are made, they are made to kill, ties be damned. This, he also knows.

So he led his clan of ice-wielders through thick and thin while watching the rising and falling of legends. He became one himself solely due to his sheer perseverance of not dying, so much in fact that his bingo book marks him down as a nin with potential Uzumaki blood.

It gave his clan a good laugh when they got hold of that particular copy, and the look on his (last) sibling’s face was utterly priceless. Everyone that knew him knew that he was too cautious to be killed, and if there was any Uzumaki blood in him, it would’ve been ignored through too much cold logic.

Then a period of peace began, stretched taut by the deaths of too many after the Great Shinobi War.

(What would the next war be called? The War of Nations? What about this period of warring? The Warring Nations Period?)

If one asks Yuki Mashiro, the warring clans era was simpler, if not just because the scale of the conflicts was much smaller, but also because the clans didn’t need to coexist in a village next to enemies that had been killing their kin since before they were born.

The Senju and Uchiha were a prime example, then throw in an egotistical Hyuga clan with some barbaric Inuzukas, and it would be a miracle for the Village Hidden in the Leaves to survive past Mashiro’s age. All of the villages were ticking tag-bombs, waiting for the right flicker of chakra to explode spectacularly and violently.

Not joining in any villages has its downfall, sure, but it kept them hoping that one day those of the Yuki bloodline would one day not be an enemy, to anyone. With their waterways and kekkei genkai, travel becomes at least thrice-fold more efficient, and the Yukis’ economy bloomed, no one starved anymore and more time was freed up to enjoy life, instead of plainly survive.

They still had their allies, the Kaguya to fall back on for brawn, the Hōzuki for their collaboration with mirror crafting, and other assorted smaller, or even bigger clans, for emergencies.

Those 'other' allies are unknowns to their enemies, if only because they could be used for as a contingency plan.

Contingency plans however, are not meant to be made, never used.

At least, that was before the Kinme called.

A ruby-speckled white snake materialized into being on Mashiro’s desk, jaws clamped shut around a silver-gilded scroll. There wasn't even any smoke, the natural chakra compiling components of the summoning seal on his desk took care of that.

 _Sage-damnit_ , the leader had barely thought, startled to the point that a senbon was inches away from impaling the eye of the cobra. Actually, over ten inches above the head of the cobra, in fact. He must be getting rusty in his old age.

And what a cobra it was, arching back and fanning out its hood in a furious hiss, the venom from its fangs repressed only so that it wouldn’t contaminate the precious message it carried.

A moment of silence, then Mashiro groaned, dragging a wrinkled hand over his face.

He sank back into his under-fluffed cushion and wordlessly held out a hand for the message, which the cobra dropped into his palm after another second of venomous glaring.

When the damn speckled cobra didn’t leave, he merely raise a brow before with painstaking slowness, unfurled the scroll.

Watching a spitting mad cobra can be rather entertaining, even if it’s merely out of the corner of his eye, especially when due to their allied status it can’t atta–

The oldest Yuki’s eyes snapped open in alarm as he reread the red-coloured message, and furious scribbling with a charcoal-ink based brush (thank the snake-nerds and their lazy writing habits) occupied the next few minutes. Under the watchful gaze of the finally non-spitting cobra, the soft floating mots of ice where he was sitting became the only remaining cue of where started his shunshin. The snake vanished but moments later, the return message clasped tightly in its jaws for the Kinme’s leader’s eyes.

When it’s winter and the Kirivan is still (stuck) in Suna, only users of the waterway would be able to ferry the his message over in time.

Hence, calling on Mako, the fastest (for now) Yuki alive, who was conveniently also one of his three grandkids.

Mashiro flexed his chakra in a manner similar to a bird flexing a wing, effortless and smoothly, before snapping it out and hunting for the soon-to-be messenger. It didn’t take long, as within a bare dozen of seconds, the young Yuki came careening down a corner of the main clan house.

“Yes?”

Mashiro held out a scroll and a message, not a word leaving his mouth. Peace times doesn't mean a distinct lack of hostiles, and walls have always had at least one pair of ears too many.

Even then, the aged leader did not enjoy watching the curious glint in his grandchild's eyes' fade into horror.

Mako's expression shuttered, and the young Yuki left as quickly as a breath of wind, off to deliver a message and join forces with it's recipients.

No reason to disturb the rest of the clan yet, as the conflict has not truly happened. But... whether or not it will, one thing that Yuki Mashiro knew clearer than a mirror of ice is that perhaps his clan will slowly cut ties with Suna.

Warning some other clan-driven caravans wouldn't go amiss either, as betraying an entire clan and ensuring their future is either ignorant captivity or permanent death, well. Suna should've foreseen some downsides to exterminating a neutral clan. Maybe a slow economical death with trade cutting off wasn't within their expectations, but life is always full of surprises, no?

With that ever so pleasant thought in mind, the clan leader sighed. Peace was a nice reprieve, but for those that kill for a living, it will never last.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha... Whoops?  
> I'm not dead, wifi hates me, vacation is tiring, and shit happens?  
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and omake combo, please leave a review on the way out!


	17. State of Mind: Screwed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's a lot of panicking, adjusting, and people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto  
> Warnings: bit of an invasion of privacy, talk of death, etc.

Perhaps it was the once again foreign environment (third time in a row) that caused the little fiasco, but through some method of irrationality, I woke up very, very abruptly. So abruptly, in fact, that upon the realization that nothing smelled like anything that could indicate safety or home and that everything was all too blindingly bright, resulted in me lunging up, snarling, getting tangled up in somewhat pristine sheets, and falling face-first off a hospital bed.

Sometimes, I hate my life. This probably counts as one of these times.

An amused chuckle floated over lazily from somewhere around the foot of the bed. My line of sight was rather obscured by white sheets and hospital wear at the present, so my judging could've been a bit off. At least my underclothes weren't changed, that would've been embarrassing and a bit too intrusive on my privacy, not to mention the seals. Welp.

The smell of antiseptics wasn't comforting though, neither were the thin bandages that seem to be bound over my hands.

"What are you, a feral cat?"

I growled at the source of the voice now that nothing was moving anymore and the female chakra source could be more easily distinguished from the rather jumbled-feeling chakra surroundings.

Hooooly shit. We're actually in the Land of Fire.

Reaching out with some weird-ass, butchered version of chakra sensing, I snagged at the little pulses of bright familiarity bare meters away. Thankfully the Konohans didn't separate our little family as everyone was within my little sphere of security, even after the genin-team-plus-sensei picked us up like so many sacks of potatoes. As per usual, I had no recollections of the trip back, having fallen asleep either naturally or artificially some minutes into being found.

I also need to build up more resistance to sleep-inducing gengetsu, also damnit.

A somewhat groggy "nee-chan" floated over from the other bed, and I let out a breath knowing that Orochi was awake, and conscious enough of his surroundings to respond to my snagging at his chakra. Unfortunately, the breath that was let out was nearly immediately sucked back in when muffled, angry hissing came out of what probably was a bed stand.

Fighting out of the covers took entirely too much energy, and it felt like my legs were jelly a couple times. By the time that fresh-whoops - stale air could be scented again, Orochi had swept away the white curtains that surrounded his cot. Why they chose to give him privacy and not the both of us, well, that's a bit of a mystery that is not very important. Why they locked our partners into a drawer, ha. That's a mystery that someone had better answer.

"Let them out!" Growling demands might garble them a bit, but we just woke up in the middle of an unknown building, with an unknown woman, and surrounded by unknowns because the chakra-filled world stopped existing past the walls of this room?

Definitely seals designed against sensors, said logical gray matter. Holy metacarpals we're in a space vacuum in a separate dimension where there's no chakra and we're all gonna die – as quoted from my actual panicking consciousness. Somewhere in between dying and now, apparently my body had decided that chakra was a part of me that cannot be removed, lest risking horrible, choking, useless death. The unspoken argument in my brain soon reached a peak where logic and the other side of the coin were screeching at each other about ninja bullshit, future-vision, Yamanakas inside minds, and yams. Despite pretty much being the battlefield of 'wits', I have no damn clue whatsoever how the yams came about.

If anything was to blame, it was probably the hunger.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Orochi blinked his eyes blearily, adjusting to the brightness outside of the curtains. Under some silent, mutual agreement, the two of us staggered over to the angry sounding cabinet thing and poked and prodded everything that seemed loose. The chakra behind us promptly ignored for a greater issue. If the person didn't kill us when we were asleep, the odds of us being murdered while investigating how to free our partners were rather slim.

Of course, my sixth metaphorical sense was kept on their chakra but there's honestly nothing I can do if the person actually wanted to kill us. Orochi didn't need to know that.

After a bit of tinkering and viscous tugging, the door opened and two pissed snakes piled out. The volume of the container was barely able to fit the both of them, and any thoughts leading off to what the Konohans would've done if snakes weren't flexible enough to fit, welp. That's something to ponder another day.

To nobody's surprise, the unknown female signature at the foot of the bed belonged to a dirty-blond haired Yamanaka lady holding an open scroll and brush when we finally cared to look at her head on. The pupil-less eyes were a bit startling really, and wondering about all the potential problems that could cause with medical personnel during eye exams or the ninja equivalent might've resulted in a bit too much staring from my side of things...

Orochi, however, was more straightforward and that much more confident now that Sugiryuu was curled around his arm and resting his head on his human's shoulder.

"Excuse me, miss, but why are your eyes all blue?"

The question got the lady out of the potential staring contest she might've had with me, but only potentially because the lack of pupils made discerning where she was looking a bit difficult.

She chuckled at Orochi's question after a little amused silence, during which Orochi thought over the question himself and realized that, ohh, us Kinmes have slitted pupils depending on the light, golden irises, and naturally born eyeshadow. But then again, that might've been a bit hard to think of as different considering up until two weeks ago, nearly everyone we were surrounded by were the same. And whoops, methinks I'll just try to step around this sinkhole of grief for the moment, there are more pressing matters to be paid attention to, such as a pouting Orochi because the lady stepped around his question.

(Actually, it's a bit surprising that the women didn't flinch when Orochi and I stared at her. Or, perhaps the lighting wasn't as bright as I previously thought so our pupils were still more or less rounded? My attention was elsewhere, so even if they weren't, I wouldn't have noticed from Orochi's eyes.)

Dōsukēru must've realized my inner distress through smell or chakra or something, because she flicked her tongue at my nose, and nuzzled my cheek from her perch around my shoulders. Sugiryuu had just coiled himself up around Orochi's waist as per usual, the growing serpent snuggling against Orochi's hospital gown heedless of its chemical scent.

The Yamanaka was utterly fascinated by our interactions, a fact that she didn't even bother to hide. It... wasn't very surprising considering our clan's habits, and the fact that we've sorta became an endangered species.

Pleasant.

However, the lady did deign to answer the question, with a non-answer of: "some people say it's so that it's easier to look into the souls of everyone else without them seeing ours."

Okay then, that's just a bit too creepy. And a bit overly… something. Extra, perhaps?

"What about yours?"

"It's because of us." Dōsukēru flicked her tongue, rising to the question quickly instead of letting any of us humans answer. "The contract with the snakes of our cave goes back long enough, that our chakra systems are attuned to a degree where there are even significant similarities in our blood."

She must've been reading through tou-chan's notes, and some of our more blood-inclined researchers to know something like that. Or maybe I mentioned it somewhere along the line, in English perhaps? Or just random musings?

The Yamanaka nodded, probably having just made a large misconception of what my clan's ancestors' relationship with snakes was like. Perhaps we'll let her keep it, if purely for the amusement factor.

But on the subject of blood, there would be some important things that she needs to understand first.

"Excuse me?" I asked tentatively.

"Yes...?" I think that was the cue to volunteer my name, but I'm a six year old who cares not enough right now.

"Since my partner mentioned that we have different blood, we, umm, can't really do any blood transfusions in the future unless the blood is between the two of us," in which two of us was accompanied by some random swishing hand motions between Orochi and I.

The Yamanaka blinked. Once, twice, gaped a bit, then closed her mouth. Perhaps she was showing more emotion because she was facing homeless children and wanted to seem more human, or maybe she was new at this.

"Blood transfusions?" Or it could be that.

Dōsukēru sniggered quietly by my ear, having hidden her head behind my hair after her previous explanation. "That was quite high pitch, don't you think?"

She nudged her way out from her spot and spoke to the Yamanaka again, "yes, we understand, and can utilize the science of blood transfusions." I'm so proud of her, using such big words and talking like a smug scientist to confuse physics defying ninjas.

The kimono-clad lady blinked quickly, then a little shift in her posture had her regaining the pose that she had at the beginning of the supposedly interrogation-like session. How curious, the first interrogation I went through was barely a few days ago, when our clan leader was questioning the path that I had decided on.

However, just as she was about to open her mouth to speak again, I cut in a bit too sharply. "What did you see inside our heads?"

The abrupt change in conversation probably threw her off again, but that was honestly all I could try to do. It might not be the best idea considering our supposed ages, but children are known to have leaping logic and other, assorted methods of unconventional thinking. Or rather, just not really thinking at all. Hopefully that would be what she assumes, but considering what she may or may not saw inside my head, that may very well change.

"You'll have to know that strange, orphaned clan children do not ordinarily appear on the outskirts of Konoha territory in the middle of winter, especially two that are accompanied by snakes and have evidence of surviving the attack of a large wild animal. The memory skim is mandatory for all non-natives that chooses to live under Konoha's protection. That said," in a manner that was almost as dry as the desert that my remaining family escaped from, she mimed some finger movements, "would you mind playing me some music?"

"You want my nee-chan to play you music?" Orochi was incredulous to say the best, and confused on the opposite end of the scale.

I shrugged, it wasn't a big deal, music was a large part of my mindscape, with the little trees whistling somewhat pleasant tunes in the non-existent wind. That she mimed finger movements and the implication that she knew I played something like a piano was a bit more disconcerting. However, it did give me a bit more time to think, so I wobbled over to an emptier part of the room, pressed my palms on the ground, and pooled the chakra into one of the seals on my hands. When it was enough, there was a puff of smoke (which I choked on), and out popped an upright piano.

Thankfully there was no sudden change in displaced air, as the room seemed rather tightly sealed, and a sudden change in air pressure would not be fun, nor it would be safe. The Uzumaki really are geniuses, installing double-facets in storage seals that are to contain something large. Meaning, there are two storage components to the seal, one that is the actual seal that seals stuff away, and one that does the reverse and brings in a volume of air, dirt, or whatever corresponding to the volume of the first seal, and "replacing" the contents. The only disadvantage was that it takes twice the amount of needed chakra, because two volumes of tremendous size are to be replace.

Either way, I have my piano, everyone still is in possession of intact eardrums, all is well.

But what the heck should I play?

Something easy to warm up, definitely, and to check if there's any creakiness left over in my joints due to yesterday's freezing trip, so a slow something? Not exactly my prefered piece, but stubbornness is only healthy in small quantities, and demonstrating how quickly my fingers can move right now to an unknown just so I can play something fast would not be the best idea, even if she will be an ally in the hopefully near future.

Settling my fingers through a little E major scale, then B minor because why the hell not, Dōsukēru whispered a soft suggestion in my ear. As per usual, it was a good suggestion except lacking the usual snark, so I followed it.

The piece didn't come as easily as I would've preferred, but after quite a few unnecessary slips and wrong chords, my fingers smoothed themselves into a rough approximation of Pachelbel canon, or whatever it was called. Unfortunately, it was a lot more simplified than the original version, and I'm probably still playing it a couple knots too fast, but I'm the only one in the room that knows anyway.

The Yamanaka's chakra settled down and it felt a bit as if it was humming.

"Wha-syer-name?"

"Pardon?"

Whoops, talking while playing musics never really worked for me, as in the pitches go all screwy, so I shut up until the last notes out of the piano rang themselves into silence.

"I'm sorry, but uh, what's your name?"

Not looking at the mind-lady meant I had no idea what expressions were going through her face, but her chakra just felt amused.

"Shouldn't you kids introduce yourselves first before asking for someone else's name?"

That's... something. Did she actually go into our heads if she doesn't even know our names, or perhaps she's just doing this for us to let down our guard? But we're kids, so…

"I'm Suijami, this is my partner Dōsukēru, my little brother over there is Orochimaru, and his partner is Sugiryuu. We also have another partner Back in the snakes' cave, but we don't have enough chakra to summon him." Giving her a squint, I continued, "we're Kinmes, but you knew that, right?

The Yamanaka smiled at us, flowers probably looming in the background or something, and said brightly "I'm Yamanaka _, and no, not everything can be seen in minds. You have a nice pond, but the root systems of your saplings could take more development."

If there was ever a split person inside of me, it would be screaming while repeatedly faceplanting into conveniently placed desks right about now.

* * *

The lady popped us a few more nonchalant questions before deeming us more or less safe and not harbouring any malicious intent towards Konoha, and I returned the favour with a question on why our partner's were imprisoned in little cabinets that could barely fit their combined bulk. The answer was something along the lines of "the medical personnel was a civilian, so they needed to not see the potentially poisonous, phobia-inducing creatures."

It sounded too much like an excuse, but with Dōsukēru's comfortable weight around my shoulders, I didn't care much about it anymore. If they were going to accept that there's going to be two Kinme's living here, snake's are not going to be a rare occurrence.

Then she proceeded to lead us to the door equally drab door, my piano having been sealed back into its proper place during the questioning. The second before she turned the knob and let in a gust of underground air though, Yamanaka suddenly clapped her hands once in a seemingly innocent gesture.

Then suddenly the world outside the room existed again.

As the tension flowed out, I realized that my previous breathing rhythm had veered onto the side of panicking. As in, stopped breathing altogether. I really need to get out of that habit.

The chakra signatures out of this room was like the muted, pleasant, cacophony of a jungle, wild untamed nature and all the unique inhabitants it housed. Actually, the background chakra seemed rather spirited, and a lot less resistive to the energies held by us, the living and breathing. So because some forms of chakra bs usage is basically willpower made real… the Will of Fire literally burns in pretty much everyone here, doesn't it?

Certainly makes a bit more sense of how there's so many fire-natured users in a goddamn forest now, the latent atmospheric chakra contains warmth, and is so rich and vibrant that it's… it's… tantalizing and impossible to ignore. And considering the fact that there was this change just by stepping out of the cave on the goddamn borders of Fire Country in the smack damn middle of winter, holy shit. Generations of people breathing this air, living off this land, drinking its waters, and well. No wonder Konoha didn't break despite being the country pretty much in the center of the map during three Shinobi wars. Just by being living inside this nature chakra filled environment, all the natives probably get a boost in strength.

Coming here was the right choice. However, there was still a corner of myself that despairs over the separation from the rest of the clan, despite our lack of numbers.

"Nee-chan, keep walking," whispered my little brother from beside me. He still wasn't very good at whispering, so the lady gave us a look over her shoulder. I responded with a grin that may have had a bit too many teeth, but like the person she probably is, she didn't even bat an eyelash. Her eyebrow did go up though, maybe even both of them.

The mind-walker led us through narrow-ish hallways that were a bit cold, floors of cement and walls of wood encasing us on all the sides that really prevented escape. The ceiling existed, and for it, that was all that mattered, not like any of us cold find our way back to our holding room. Or actually, Dōsukēru and Sugiryuu probably could, but Orochi was evidently thinking about something else, and it was more likely for me to starve than to find my way around.

Despite my absolutely uncanny ability to get lost, I could still tell that we were going gradually, sloping up. The ambient chakra also changed from rather muted to only somewhat, while little flickers of moving sources shifted in and out of my range, generally with us moving away from them as soon as we were close. Our surroundings also gradually changed to something more befitting of an above-ground structure. But after we turned one last corner in this kami-damned maze, there suddenly existed a little muted flare of chakra that seemed to be a condensed supernova.

Like, legit, even with how tightly it was compressed into itself, there was that constant, nagging, anticipation for the moment that the user didn't care to restrain the chakra anymore and allowed it to obliterate little lifeforms like Orochi and I. And of course, because they were so bright and resolution of chakra sensing can also be as bad as those of one's eyes, the nearer we got, the more I was convinced that there were two.

One was an inferno given life and hidden in a candle, a suppressed hint of wild malice leaking just around the edges, and the other was like a languid cat, one of those that could cut through water and was hiding a dragon under their pelt. Their chakra control must be borderline insane.

A step into the room after Yamanaka hustled us in before her, and the thought was revised to holy shitzles we're screwed.

Behind a desk pretty much made of neatly sorted book casings, in a large room where scrolls lined every conceivable nook, niche, and cranny, sat a person that radiated power, chakra, and insomnia – Senju Tobirama– the second Hokage, recently appointed, and calmly printing characters onto the length of a scroll with a carved brush. And within arms reach of him at the corner of the desk, sat a red-haired women, hair done up in two immaculate buns, clad in a pale green kimono, and daintily sipping what appeared to be near-boiling tea.

Oh gods, Uzumaki Mito's here as well?

The two of them had presences large enough to fill the room by even just one of them with their power all tightly coiled, let alone both in the same room.

Judging from how nobody else was as affected, as in legs jellifying and chakra seeping out uncontrollably like so much cold sweat that had already coated my palms, well. Being such a detailed sensor is decidedly not fun when so many people are basically chakra monsters in disguise.

Of course, those two and probably some others are exceptions. But then again, with how much chakra they have, I could probably know where they are from the other side of the village, puny range be damned.

To make matters somewhat worse, our only escort had decided to vanish into thin air. Her chakra was actually lingering somewhere above us, so some alcove in the ceiling probably, but there goes the meat shield against human interactions.

A somewhat familiar clipboard on the hokage's desk also seemed suspicious, what with it being on the top of the pile and probably the same one that the Yamanaka had jotted stuff down on when she was interrogating us. How it got the desk I'll just categorize as ninja bullshit.

And then it was a long-ass time of nerve-frying waiting.

Orochi's hand was clenched tightly in my own. If our skin tone was anything near the normal of humans, it would probably be stark white now anyways. Even Dōsukēru wasn't shifting much, her head just barely poking out from over my shoulder, chakra a mess of predator-alert-caution-careful no matter how careful she tried to conceal it.

Meanwhile, the brush glided over the scroll in calming swishes, soft dots, and the occasional strong stroke, all leaving a definite mark on the page. From what was visible at my angle, I think he was addressing Uzushio in something regarding sealing. Considering Uzumaki Mito's near visible amusement, it might be some sort of debate between the two of them.

The seconds danced by, exiting along with the previous confidence that I had barely mustered.

Finally, the Hokage set down the brush, and after using a little scalpel to open a cut on the side of his thumb, dripped the blood into a little flat saucer at the side on his desk. Then he pressed a beautifully carved white jade stamp into the blood, and pressed his signature into the document.

It took a few more seconds for the albino ninja to roll the paper up, bind it, and place it among the stack of pre-bound scrolls, but after he did, he laced his fingers together and looked at us.

Mito put down her cup, the contents gone.

Just saying, but red eyes in real life set in the face of someone who can crush me without moving a pinkie are scary as all hell.

Is it any wonder at all that I blinked first, and averted my gaze to somewhere on the patch of ground in front of me?

"Good morning Hokage-sama, Uzumaki-sama–" I squeaked.

The red-haired lady chuckled into the sleeve of her kimono, movement graceful and languid and completely at odds with the panicking in my head. "It's nearly evening, little Kinme."

Dōsukēru snorted softly into my neck, before raising her head and replying "it's always morning somewhere."

"Should we continue to think of ourselves as Kinme though, nee-chan?" The sudden, soft question out of nowhere from Orochi suddenly jerked my thoughts in another direction.

Are Kinme's still a clan when there are only a handful of children and even less "adults" left?

"Even if most of us are gone, I'm still here with you, right?" I murmured back.

There was a cutting surge of chakra from the two adults in the room. Muffled to not induce panic in non-chakra-sensitive children, but unfortunately (or fortunately) I was neither. Even after suppressing the urge to flinch and hide in a corner, the residue panic-fear-hide-hide instincts was still strong enough to cause the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

"Explain, if you would please." Mito's soft question was a statement, or perhaps even something else. Considering her clan's allied status with that of mine, however, at least she was the one asking and not Senju Tobirama. Our relations with the Senju was… complicated to say the least.

This time it was Sugiryuu who spoke up, a bit more than slightly unamused by the digging into fresh wounds, and the fact that the snakes present were ignored. It was widely acknowledged within the circle that know of the Kinme that our serpent partners are just as smart as we were, which made them a lot smarter than a lot of random people out there.

"Suna–" he hissed, visceral anger audible, "is a lair of back-stabbing scorpions, who abandon and kill their allies when it suits them." In the world of now, that filled with individual villages instead of smaller clans as units, being accused of being a backstabber is virtually the same as being outed as a traitor, an oathbreaker, or something worse. It also carries the implications that everyone else will be very, very cautious when dealing with the group and will likely never try to regard the group without suspicion.

The Hokage exchanged a glance with the Uzumaki that tied their alliances with Konoha, unspoken words flying between the two in so many flickers of chakra.

"Would any of you perchance have an idea of why Suna decided to take the actions that they did?" He probably has more of an idea than the four of us midgets combined, because politics, but more perspectives from the near-victims are almost always beneficial.

"It's been around half a decade since the Shinobi War right?" I mumbled, "then perhaps Suna was getting restless? Like, tensions are always sort of there, and Senju Hashirama had just… you know." Better for a kid from a neutral clan not to voice that the First Hokage was dead, especially considering that those present are his brother and wife, even moreso when he died during peace times and not during a war or some other large scaled conflict.

If the chakra in the room previous was like a blade sheathed in glass, the threat visible but just protected from harm with a thin coating of politeness and common courtesy, it wouldn't be wrong to say that now the blade was out of its sheath, the world no longer protected by the edge. In fact, it felt like there was cold, naked, despairing steel hanging over my neck at the very instant, waiting for gravity to do its job and kick out one randomly lost soul.

"And how would you know of the death of my brother?"

"That is a question that I would like to hear the answer to as well, little snake. How exactly did you receive news of my late husband's demise?" Mito's eyes were narrowed.

I felt the pulse point in Dōsukēru's throat stutter from where it was laid over the hollow by my collarbone, and I gulped likewise.

"I, uhh, hear rumours in Suna? And, umm, you're the one wearing the Hokage's hat?"

The Hokage looked at us, then sighed, rubbing his fingers over the ridge of his nose in what appeared to be the action of preventing an oncoming headache. "Come in," he intoned. What?

Blasted seals, screwing with my senses I thought as the door to the room flew open and three somewhat young shinobi piled through the door. Two males and one female, if my eyes are correct, and each somewhere in the vicinity of being in their mid teens. With chakra pretty much messing with the usual aging program, physical guesses are no longer all that reliable.

"Sensei – er, Hokage-sama! The patrol that was sent to investigate the area where the Kinme kids appeared –" cue significant look at my little bro and I, "found a missing-nin sniffing around, he's in T&I right now." Nice to know that the bounty posters from then are still going around, if that missing-nin was looking for easy money by tracking two kids.

Tobirama nodded slowly, "write up the report. I expect it to be here–" he tapped a less-cluttered corner of his desk "in three hours."

Among wails of "I have a date later with Biwako-chan!" and other assorted noises generated by scrambling shinobi (which was next to none), the team of three left the room with a slammed door in their wake.

"A lively bunch, aren't they?" mused the lone Uzumaki.

"An utter handful, sometimes." Grimaced a likewise exasperated Senju. Then his attention turned back to us, and asked "would you happen to know why a missing-nin would be looking around in Fire country, and where you appeared?"

My partner lifted her head off of where it was resting, and wobbled it in a back-and-forth motion like that of a shrugging human. "We sort of do? After we escaped from Suna, we found a clue in our kaa-chan's bingo book, apparently there's quite a bounty on all the Kinmes, the reward is especially high if we're children and captured alive."

I gave the hokage a slow blink, and tilted my head. Being in a person's presence long enough was apparently good enough to stem off a bit of social awkwardness, especially when they do something that seems more… human, such as being annoyed by students. "Suna doesn't want anyone else to know that they committed clan genocide, and they also want children that can be molded into their own research teams. Or perhaps they want our library? Or even the snake summons?" The snake contract was tethered to our clan with blood, and only those with Kinme blood may be permitted to write their names on. Of course, that doesn't exclude the possibility that someone not of our blood used it as ink to snag a spot on the scroll, however slim that possibility may be.

There was a bit more of a curious spark in Tobirama's eyes now, and he asked, "and what would be in your library?"

There was a grin on Orochi's face that I could feel as well, nothing makes us Kinme's happier than talking about knowing and knowledge and understanding bits of the world that no one else does. It's a bit like knowing a secret that only us Kinmes know, but it might have resulted in us being a bit snobbish when associating with people who don't use the heads that they're born with.

"Anything you can think of that people have asked about, or we can experi- ri- ment with," Orochi chirped, purple-rimmed eyes curved like two half-moons.

Our grins didn't falter as Uzumaki Mito leaned over to pick up the clipboard dropped off by our interrogator, her eyes widening just slightly before sliding a finger down a line and passing the clipboard to Senju Tobirama, whose eyebrows hiked up a tad.

"Konoha is the most accepting of all the villages," he began conversationally, "but what you bring to and contribute to the village can allow your assimilation into our ranks easier. Would you four happen to have anything in particular that you alone can contribute to my village?"

Methinks there was a lot of wordplay to assert some sort of authority in that sentence, me also does not care because he opened the door to our salvation for us with a minimum ticket price.

I gave a little grin at the Hokage and the Uzumaki by his side, at hopefully who me and mine can soon consider our leaders. "Everything that Yamanaka-san wrote down, and more, depending on how free we are to pursue our academic interests."

"Otherwise the Librarian-sama won't even let us borrow stuff anymore," Dōsukēru cough-mumbled, Orochi choked on a little snort because honest to friggin' kamis, that snake can be terrifying.

"Is that the old python that argues with the elders back on Uzushio?" Mito inquired.

"Probably, does she have weird looking scales around her eyes? Like, uhh, glasses perhaps?"

Mito blinked, "yes, if I recall correctly."

Tobirama's chakra felt the tiniest bit confused, which was quickly amended when Mito leaned over and whispered something very quickly into his ear. If the glint in his eyes reminded me anything of some of my deceased clansmen, well, it's a bond as well as a telltale sign to get the hell away, isn't it?

A tick of the imaginary clock later, Tobirama nodded, and from somewhere withdrew an empty scroll. "What do you kids want for Konoha to become your home?"

I was already thinking of some terms that could potentially lead us to a better stay here, but Dōsukēru beat me to the punch.

"Respect, a place to live, education, the tools to become a ninja, access to research materials, freedom associated with being a citizen of Konoha, and being able to keep our identities and defend it when necessary."

"Anything else?"

I shrugged, "that's basically it? If there's more, we'll just ask."

"Those can all be arranged, although some of your conditions will be temporarily put on hold until we can discern your loyalty." That's understandable. "In return, you will be loyal to Konoha, assist in research attempts whenever possible, and become ninjas to fight for the village. If possible, it would also be preferred if your contract can also be passed down in our village in case of your deaths." So either make a clan, or pass it to outsiders? Inwardly I laughed. Considering Orochi later on becomes functionally immortal, that shouldn't be a problem. Probably. Unless I screw with the timeline so much that he doesn't care to become immortal, or if death decides to just take a break and hand the mantle to some idiot that forgot which souls to harvest. Case in point, the Second Hokage sitting in front of me. Shouldn't he have died during the shinobi war or something? It's good that he's alive, but, well, I don't think I did anything that could've given the universe an excuse to allow him to survive?

There must've been some weird expression on my face because Mito chuckled sadly. "Death in line of duty is unfortunately a very real consequence, as you should know as a clan child."

Without processing what my brain was telling me to not say, I snarked back, "we've realized." Then proceeded to slap my hands over my mouth because ohshit. That might've been a bad idea, but considering that there was only the few of us in this room of the Hokage tower, it wasn't surprising that it was let slide.

Negotiations went on a bit more, with each of us adding or revising some point that didn't fit. In the end, Orochi and I signed a scroll that Tobirama wrote up with bloodied thumbs (the Senju lending us a tiny scalpel), and it was official, we were Konohans.

* * *

"–staying for the duration before you two can support yourselves. Just give the papers to the matron and she'll have you situated."

I peered at the looming orphanage because I'm still short, and the building/cluster of houses were rather tall. The wood of all the buildings that we've passed so far thrummed with a latent energy like the spirit of a tree god had passed by and left his life energy in everything he made. It wasn't hard to picture because apparently out of ecstatic glee of his dreams becoming reality, Hashirama had grown close to the entire village out of the ground. In fact, he even overdid the job and there were extra buildings on the outskirts outside a large wall that pretty much just serve as safe-houses for rent or red herrings for anyone hostile.

And that was nearly where the orphanage was located, on the inside of the walls yes, but close enough that I could tell the facial features of the guards at the gate booth-thingy.

"Thank you Yamanaka-san!" Oro and I chorused, the snakes too busy scenting out the place from the depths of our coats to give the blond-haired lady another glance. The lady shrugged, her light green kimono shimmering just a bit in the winter wind.

Thank kamis for winter clothing, if Mito hadn't reminded us to change back when we were leaving the Hokage's office, the four of us would've been twenty klicks north of screwed, or just victims of hypothermia. Not fun, especially when one remembers that the cold just nearly killed two of the last remaining Kinme humans a bit back.

Getting settled into the orphanage was a really simple thing, the matron of the orphanage, an apathetic looking old-Inuzaka and her partner, an aged black wolf-dog that was curled up in front of a fire, greeted us from a little sectioned off section of what seemed to be the main lobby. After we gave her the documentations, she barely looked at the papers, but instead squinted at our clan markings, and huffed, "follow ol' lazy ass over there, he'll take you to your home for the next while."

Then the wolf-dog was beside us and nudged us, the glare he shot the lady was all but ignored as she seemed lost in thought. "The fifth room of the second-floor's west wing should be empty, as long as the one from the fourth room doesn't bother them… take them there, wouldn't you?" The wolf-dog huffed, flipped the women off with a front paw and beckoned for us to follow him.

The layout of the orphanage was simple, it's pretty much a small street in itself, as all the houses are connected either with corridors of some form. If I had an aerial view, I would say it looked like a string of house-shaped blocks on two parallel dango sticks. After a flight of stairs up in the main lobby, we went through two more houses in its aboveground connecting corridors, and was motioned to stop in front of a somewhat pristine door.

The lab bunched up a bit and then pawed at the door, which turned the door-handle and released the stench of something having died. If whatever that died in there doesn't get cremated soon, I have a feeling that the four of us will be cremated as well.

It nearly feels like I'm in a hotel, wtf. Peering inside with pinched noses, the room can be summed up as ok-ish, it was basically a blocky P from our viewpoint, allowing the existence of a sad window on the far wall and a bathroom right next to the entrance. Thankfully water-pressure has been discovered so flushing toilet prototypes were made, but with no one living in this room, there was no water supplied to do the ever-so-critical job of flushing.

The smell came from a dying puddle of shit which the matron's dog removed with a run downstairs.

"New neigh-bo-bors? I hope yous don't mind me making a dump in your toilet, mine died last week."

I was tempted to ask our soon-to-be neighbor if it was his toilet that died, or his brain. But when I looked over, all my brain matter frizzled and ceased to communicate.

There was a white-haired boy standing there, eyes going all shifty, and picking his nose. Oh, and he had matching red lines bleeding out from beneath his eyes.

Bloody Fu––––

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... whoops?  
> I seem to have forgotten to upload this chapter since last... November? It got uploaded on FF.net tho, which honestly isn't saying much lol.  
> Thanks for sticking around with me for so far, and thanks for your patience whileI muddle through first year of uni!  
> That said, the next chapter is almost completed, so it can be expected to be posted in this week.  
> Thanks to all who left comments and kudos! I love them all and they renewed my motivation!  
> ~Cadriona Morningwing  
> Uploaded April 24, 2018


	18. Adjustments and Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinme tip #31: When in a battle against an opponent who is underestimating you, allow them to keep their assumptions until they make an error of judgement regarding that assumption.
> 
> (–anonymous Kinme that forgot he didn’t have a broken leg half-way through a battle)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Whoops? Life happened?

 

Aside from the smidgen bit of panicking done along with a suppressed spit-take when I discovered that Jiraiya was our new neighbor, all went…  more or less well. First impressions with that kid were rather interesting, as he had seen the snakes poking their heads out before screeching and careening back to his room, arms pinwheeling like a particularly rattled fan. From the sounds that came out of his room, his roommate probably wasn’t pleased with his behaviour either, which was temporarily amusing.

At least the wolf dog (apparently named Kibamaru  _ because what is my life even– _ ) allowed us temporary use of another unoccupied room for the first night to air out our actual lodgings. 

If the smell persisted any longer with us in the room, Sugiryuu and Dōsukēru committing a homicide where Orochi and I will have to ditch the body in a hole later would’ve been a legitimate fear. Of course, that’s only if I didn’t get to throttle the brat first. What can I say? Our noses are rather sensitive, and our first impression of Jiraiya quite literally stinks.

During the night, I got up to to use the washroom only to hear the sound of nasal-sounding cursing floating through the walls from our actual future room. A more conscious probing using my chakra sense revealed that there was what could possibly be a genin team– three small flighty chakra signatures– in the washroom with their jounin sensei– a rich earthy undertone in a human-shaped package– lounging in the furthest possible corner of the room from the washroom that can be achieved. Any further and I would’ve been concerned that the person was stuck to the outside wall of the building.

Dōsukēru was rather amused when I whispered my observations to her after I returned to the futon that all four of us were sharing, and replied something along the lines of how the matron was probably notified to make our stay comfortable, as our status as Kinme could be quite beneficial later on. Possibly.

As long as we get a room larger than the quite literal abandoned bedroom-converted-storage room that the lady had us stay in for now, everything would honestly be alright. 

On the second day living in the orphanage, a ninja lady popped by and gave me a scroll, which informed me that someone will pick me up in a few days time for a tour of the academy and associated facilities, followed by registration. She left after making sure I had no questions, only bewildered silence. 

How the hell did they trust me enough to stick me in a building where all the tiny future ninjas are training when a bare decade ago children my age were commonplace on the battlefield? Aren’t they afraid that I might be a spy or a sleeper agent or something? 

(Or perhaps the fact that only I was addressed the scroll and not Orochi was their way of holding a hostage?

…

Pleasant.)

Anyways, everybody in the orphanage lived on the rough approximation of a schedule which we managed to determine pretty much by the end of our second day here, an accomplishment mainly due to what seemed to be habitual whining done by some of the orphanage’s more… interesting individuals.

Breakfast is served when the sun is completely above the treeline, and then we are to sit in one of the larger repurposed rooms to learn basic things that I’ve understood since before this birth. Granted, that was probably some random benefit from living once, dying once, and living once again, but it was made even more boring by the fact that Orochi  _ also _ knew most of the material due to our previous teachings, of this world or not. Our partners knew the material as well, mainly due to osmosis and some of my mindless ramblings.

This was after we filtered out all of the propaganda though, otherwise the knowledge that could’ve come through was probably only every other sentence. Well, unless it was the class that dealt with numbers and factual knowledge, which they dubbed “Numerical and Natural Knowledge”, but Orochi and I just called math and science (which can also be separated into so many fields that it will hurt ninja brains). Propaganda is just a  _ bit _ harder to stick in classes where bias is not as applicable.

My little brother’s attempts to pass me notes written in English was also rather entertaining, but failed a bit. The passing the notes part didn’t fail, it was the vocabulary and written form of the other language that he couldn’t really finish well. 

I passed his notes back to him with crosses and lines and commentary of red ink, it made me feel like a teacher (like I’m actually passing on something more beneficial than grief).

Unsurprisingly, the orphanage didn’t teach chakra use, which can be easily explained by how when most times the kids are adopted, their future parents are civilians, and nobody with actual power in the village wants a budding chakra-user that might not become a ninja among those who cannot access this weird type of energy. 

In other words, loose cannons are not appreciated (and must be eliminated or folded into the troops)

This ‘class time’, however, gave my little family ample time to read from other sources, namely the booklet that was stored in the storage seal somewhere along our collarbone. It held some basic info on how to stay alive, random safety lab procedures, and other bits of knowledge labeled point-form that occasionally could be more beneficial to a Kinme than others. Some of the information was more wishful thinking, but there was genuine tips that could be useful in life or death situations.

However, it also held a guide for our clan traditions, along with a timeline for our clan’s milestone habits, such as when a child is summoned out from the snake’s realm, when we are first trained, etc, etc. Currently we were simultaneously a bit behind and a bit early on Orochi’s milestones, as he had decided that he was also to use a katana like our kaa-chan but haven’t gotten around to Takumi Village for obvious reasons.

Looks like we’ll need to commision an escort mission to the village of artisans in the near future, preferably within the next month or so.

Anyways, the booklet is useful for continuing our culture if permitted, but otherwise more of a memorial-like piece of history that brings more tears than knowledge. Talking of traditions, despite having been working on a prototype-esque model of another stringed instrument since Dōsukēru and I first went to Suna, Orochi has abandoned the unfinished project and decided to just follow in kaa-chan’s footsteps and play a flute. According to the handbook, some of the milestones could be pushed up in unusual circumstances, hence why Orochi simultaneously had to find a weapon and build an instrument instead of leaving the instrument part to after he was five. The clan definitely noticed something wrong before going to Suna, but… well.

That might’ve only been the second day in Konoha, but when I got back to our actual-non-death-smelling room from an errand to a stench of smoke, a scorched bathroom, and a guilty looking Orochi and Sugiryuu duo, it was somewhat obvious. The mass of tangled iron wires among burnt and charred wood was also rather a pointing finger of what had become of the prototype.

He didn’t use kaa-chan’s flute though, probably because it was too long and just generally not in the right dimensions for a four-year-old to play (and also too many associations and grief and all the emotions that we need a therapist to even poke with a ten-foot pole), but instead got a smaller bamboo one that I helped find the very same afternoon. The merchants of Konoha have most of their business done in different sectors of the village, but the more expensive, frivolous things were a bit closer to the center of the village, ie, easier for ninjas to get to in case of a robbery. 

Our trip to and fro rendered us with chattering teeth and a sense of our blood cooling in our veins because we are young with stubby legs, miniscule chakra-pool be damned. So, not pleasant at all. 

At least we figured out where the merchants that sold livestock did her business, otherwise Sugiryuu might’ve had a bit of a problem with his dietary requirements. The old lady that somehow chose to breed mice, rabbits, and other small prey animals seemed quite delighted to discover that she will from now on have another loyal customer. 

Thankfully she seemed to be at the very least mildly short-sighted, so us overdressing to disguise out traits went more or less unnoticed. This would be probably one of the few instances that I’m guiltily glad that the technology to construct glasses for those of every social class didn’t exist, as glass and metalworking was expensive and could only be afforded by the wealthy.

A couple extra, somewhat larger prey mammals were also bought and taken to the back of an alleyway, and sent to their doom by summoning the messenger cobra and giving him the tribute. Orochi was utterly fascinated by the proceedings, but my little partner was watching Sugiryuu with a critical eye to make sure that the food didn’t wake up from its trauma induced unconsciousness and try to thrash around. Poor Sugiryuu was too hungry to pay the right amount of attention.

Due to most of the merchants being civilian, however, it was only by wearing far too much to be comfortable, via scarves and gloves and sunglasses that are large enough to cover our entire eye-markings, that we seem relatively normal in this chilly winter season. (That, and having our scaled partners hiding inside our sleeves where they wouldn't be stifled.) 

Even then the low temperatures were rather hard to endure, clan biology having rendered some of our human traits a bit more muted. Or something. I dunno, there’s no one to ask now.

These disguises will only work for a period of time though, while snow is still falling and the temperatures are still rather low, but spring and summer are going to open a can of discriminating worms that may be rather… annoying to deal with. In fact, it’s already annoying to deal with, what with our fellow orphans giving us either scared, disgusted, or downright hostile stares whenever they thought we weren’t looking. Granted, some of them seemed like a combination of amusement, curiousity, or even a bit of morbid fascination, but being gawked at was never on my list of accomplishments and will never earn its way on it.

Nearly being pushed down the stairs once during a morning rush is enough to keep a permanent guard up as well, as the sensation of two hands between shoulder blades applying pressure out of nowhere is rather obvious. I was able to maintain my balance and Orochi could probably do so as well if such a thing was to happen to him, but from then on I made a habit of walking behind him down the stairs.

But how foolish they are, to think that a clan child would not be capable of retaliating, or give a rat’s arse about how some orphans with little to no background sees them as. If they try something else though… the only one with the guts to clean up the mess would be our matron.

Bad mindset,  _ bad _ mindset. No need to antagonize people right from the get go, not when there are other, more useful places to vent out frustration. Especially not when some of these orphans could eventually become our comrade in arms.

_ Unless they die sometime  _ before _ from an unfortunate accident…  _

Ahem.

Hopefully I’ll be able to figure out how the frick to use the makeup stuff that my clansmen would get smeared with while on the road before then. Or maybe I won’t and two lonely Kinme’s will just be one of the other, odder and smaller clans that Konoha has claimed for its own.

But I digress, Orochi now has a rudimentary flute, and he’s learning how to play it. Perhaps in the future he can become an amazing flute player, but currently the stick of bamboo sounds like a screaming piccolo begging to be released from this hell. Our neighbors have made their displeasure known for quite a while now via loud incessant banging on the thin walls, so we decided to put off instrumental practice while in the orphanage. 

It’s not like Orochi doesn’t have the means to carry it around either, as our clan  _ may _ have been a  _ tad _ bit extra that day when giving the lot of us tattoos.

Well, more things to remember our roots by.

Anyhow. After classes, there’s a brief period of free time before lunch that we may eat at the dining hall in the orphanage or go out and find ourselves some decent grub. The early afternoon is free time for us all, but the lot of us are required to be back by supper, where the matron and her partner are to take attendance and make sure that everybody found their way back relatively safely. After supper we are given little things to do, such as the older kids sharpening kunai, and the younger ones helping along with less… limb-risking chores, basically piecework for midgets. I suppose this is how the orphanage makes a part of its living, as so many mouths cannot simply rely on charity alone.

I currently live for that free time in the afternoon, which is thankfully enough to do...stuff.

Example: as with a lot of skills, Orochi will probably become better at flute playing if he starts young. However, his… dissonant harmony results in more conflict than necessary with our fellow orphans. A logical conclusion to this would be to either ignore the others and pretend we live in a bubble of isolation (our communication skills were already at least minorly stunted, so that wasn’t a good idea), or find somewhere else to practice.

Therefore, four days into our stay in the village and subsequent explorations, when Dōsukēru realized that the building nestled in the side of an alley two streets down was a bar via shift-stepping, drunk smelling ninjas who occasionally blurred and smashed into rooftops, we decided to use that free time to check it out. The only excuse I have for not realizing sooner was because my face was wrapped up and a running nose did not make for a good sniffer. Perhaps also because of the faint ripple that tugged on my chakra when I wandered close, that urged me to  _ step away, look elsewhere, this is not somewhere you want to be. _

Thankfully, it was a (somewhat) friendly bar once we got past the initial disconcerting experience, with a Uchiha bartender and his also Uchiha wife serving (gracefully depositing) the drinks when I peeked in. Why Uchihas would choose to work in a place like this, well. I sure as hell don’t know. The point is, their bar also had the little stalls where it's a little region cloaked via a silencing seal, which can perfect for horrid instrumental practicing. How I knew? There was a little sign at the front that offered customers “soundless privacy” if an additional cost is paid. 

On second thought, that’s probably why the two Uchihas work here, so discreet glances even with their peripheral vision can be reviewed later and lip-reading can occur to decipher whatever people didn’t want other people hearing.

Sneaky ninjas,  _ very _ sneaky.

So here I am with Dōsukēru, fifth day in our stay in Konoha, Orochi and Sugiryuu left at the orphanage with sufficient reading material (our trek to the library ended up with ANBU dragging us out near closing time the day previous), and trying to look over the countertop for the barkeep. Honestly though, Orochi’s near extreme distaste of the cold is a bit alarming, but hopefully it will dampen with time and more memories of the cold not associated with death and dying and near-death experience via bear. Or hypothermia. On second thought, his profound hate of the cold can actually be easily understood.

Anyways, there were other ninjas here in the bar, their chakras melding together and apart and everything like a particularly ambitious palette with water sprayed over it, except for where the sound silencing seals muted their signatures a bit as well. Interesting. 

I don’t think any of them are paying me any attention? Or if they are, then I’m just very good at ignoring them. 

Apparently I’m also very good at ignoring people trying to talk to me as well because only the tail end of a question made its way to my brain, and two seconds after giving no indication of hearing, Dōsukēru ended up slithering out of my fluffed-up collar to rest her head on mine ( _ to see higher, probably _ ), and replying “my human wants to know how much a half-hour stay in a silenced booth costs.” 

Whoever was on the receiving end of my partner’s statement must’ve had a funny expression to go with the funny twist in their chakra. It would’ve been even more entertaining if it didn’t attract the attention of what appeared to be half the populace of the bar. Honestly, having ninja attention directed to a sensor is a bit disconcerting. 

Normally when a person is just not focusing their chakra, there’s just little wisps of their chakra floating out of their tenketsu, a bit like an intangible, invisible chakra shroud that’s only barely there, which then dissipates into the atmosphere and can be picked up by most sensors in what can possible be described as “halos” around a person. Due to the distribution of the tenketsu not being very even on any living thing, the halos are also a bit lopsided instead of an exact mold of the person it came off of, hence extremely skilled or experienced sensors being able to tell what direction a person is facing, or their posture, or whatever. Up til now, it’s been pretty much “scientifically” determined that everybody senses at least a bit differently, basically the variety of sense perception except  _ more _ . Perhaps like having synesthesia as a sixth sense?

So, I’m only a decent sensor at close range, but becoming the sudden epicenter of a lot of focused attention was… a touch overwhelming. Thankfully Dōsukēru noticed and a little squeeze of rubbing scales on my shoulder reminded me that she was here, I wasn’t alone, and that she can talk for us both when required. 

Calmer now, I tried to gauge the reaction of the probably Uchiha behind the counter by drilling a hole through the floor with my eyes and focusing on their chakra signature. Or at least, tried to before an amused voice said “What would be your human’s name? Or yours for this matter.”  _ Good grief, how much of this conversation am I missing? _

My little scaly pal seemed pleasantly surprised that she was being addressed directly, instead of merely as a mouthpiece, which occurs much too often for any of our comforts. It comes with the territory of not a lot of people realizing that the Kinme snakes human-relationship-wise placed somewhere obscure between Inuzuka dogs and summons of any other form, and not being all that communicative about  _ clan secrets _ .

“Isn’t it a common courtesy to give your own name before asking for another’s?” she asked innocently. 

The cozy-cat-fire chakra behind the counter was definitely amused now, and I could nearly feel the shrug when the reply was simply a slightly singsonged “ _ ninja~ _ ”.

I snickered, and Dōsukēru patted the side of my face with her tail. “If you want to do the talking, then speak up–” she hissed at me in a low amused tone, to which she was answered with a very rapid, yet small amplitude of head shaking. Nuh uh, like hell I’m talking to someone I can’t even  _ see _ .

Satisfied, my partner said “ignore Suijami here, she doesn’t really have a logical amount of common sense,  _ my _ name is Dōsukēru, and yes, the person that named me was high when he did so.” She gave a little huff. “And if you can’t tell, we’re Kinme.”

Hopefully the combination of being more or less upcoming with information would give us a better impression, and allow us the use of a sound-proofed stall if we bring something good to the table.

Then the person behind the table said: “Just Uchiha-san will do for now. You can ask around later if you really want to know my name.” My partner nearly bristled at the words, but calmed down after a quick breath in and out. At least just Uchiha-san  would be easier to remember though? 

“Wouldn’t we mix them up by accident though?” I muttered to Dōsukēru, who parroted it to the Uchiha.

“That’s only  _ if _ you choose to stay around, which a children like you really shouldn’t.”

That’s pleasant and all, but– “my brother is trying to learn to play an instrument, but our neighbors in the orphanage are not very appreciative of his attempts at music.” I said.

“So you  _ can _ speak.” The Uchiha remarked, a touch of smugness evident in her voice (I’m quite sure she’s a her, considering the only other Uchiha was a man that had just entered my field of vision from the back), and earlier reconnaissance revealed that there was only the two of the working at this bar.

“Of course my human can speak!” Dōsukēru said, posture defensive and just the tiniest bit appalled. Since I knew her sometimes literally better than the back of my hand, it was easy to hear the hidden humour in her voice. Then she had to rain on my parade by continuing “it’s just sometimes better that she doesn’t.”

This time it was my turn to give a look of faux horror and clasp my hands above my heart. “Why would you wound me so?”

“Because your reactions are amusing.” Her deadpan reply shouldn’t have been as funny as it was, but well, a skewed sense of humour tends to run in the family.

At least it amused the Uchiha enough for her to give a little chortle. Then she leaned forwards over the counter and – _ ho shit she’s too pretty this isn’t fair _ – uhh,  _ smiled _ ? “If I allow two  _ orphans _ and their snakes to use specially prepared and highly in demand booths–” ( _ whoops shit right they’re called booths not stalls what is this a bathroom _ ?) “–what could they possibly pay instead of the money that they couldn’t possibly have?”

And as occasionally stupid little shit that I am, looked at the very deadly Uchiha lady in the eyes and blurted out: “I can play music as entertainment for your bar.”

From the sound of a scaled tail slapping over an equally scaled head, it was slightly evident that Dōsukēru did not agree with my tact, and that I probably signed my future musical career off to a bar.

Lovely.

* * *

She wanted a demonstration. Of course she wanted a demonstration, what else could I reasonably expect?

Despite my fingers being almost numb enough to fall off, a couple of warm-up exercises with scales and other technical techniques later, I could actually say that the demonstration went quite decently, if the pieces played were a bit simple. Frankly, my hands just aren’t big enough to play some of the chords I could Before, and trying to attempt something like that during a demonstration just wasn’t a good idea.

It was also unfortunate that the events from around a week or so ago might’ve damaged my continued inclinations to play Christmas pieces for who-the-hell-knows-how-long as they used to be my default go-to pieces, but it could’ve been worse. 

The random person that passed by the piano and dropped a few ryo on the top of the piano was welcome, as were the few others after him. I could tell that Dōsukēru was cackling at my silent bewilderment, equally silently, across our bond. 

All and all, Uchiha Mysterious-Name-san has accepted being the temporary employer of moi, paid with tips by the other customers and minutes in a sound-sealed booth, huzzah.

This would’ve been so much easier if one of the seals that we got from our clan was a sound-proof one, but  _ noo _ , we get a mountain of storage seals, a few blue-print seals, and some other miscellaneous ones that currently help us nada.

Orochi was happy and sad and slightly constipated looking in equal measures when I later informed him that he was going to have to practice at least once every two days from now on, probably because he doesn’t want to leave the warmth of the orphanage just to practice an instrument. But he will, his already present pride and eagerness for learning won’t let a little cold get in the way.

Sugiryuu however, might just overall looked a bit constipated, considering that he’ll have to listen to every attempt while I get to be outside the range of Orochi’s practicing with Dōsukēru.

* * *

That night at dinner in the dining hall, we all “feasted” on the dissected, quartered, and over-roasted corpse of a giant-ass kangaroo that a battered team of chunin had dragged in. Apparently the Forest of Death is the unfortunate home to many good sources of protein and extermination missions were as common as food runs. But despite my distinct disadvantage in the field of biology, I’m  _ quite _ sure that sometimes “what doesn’t kill you makes you[r young] stronger” would apply evolution-wise in this case, and will eventually result in legit monsters being bred in training ground 44’s confines.

Hell, that’s not my problem anytime soon. Probably. Hopefully. Shit.

The  _ real _ problem is trying to snatch enough food from the long tables with a hoard of orphans long-accustomed to this practice barring our way. They didn’t do that intentionally of course, but the action is probably a subconscious one by now. The kangaroo was quite large, but the variety wasn’t too much. Some small clumps of veggies and fruits here and there, other protein sources like fish and eggs, and what might’ve been a bakery’s leftovers decorated another table.

It didn’t matter that the Inuzuka matron tries to somehow always get us enough food, or that they’re scattered everywhere on numerous tables for easier access, but we act a bit like cats, and therefore do not consent to herding.

The fact that the wolf-dog, Kibamaru, lies in wait under the meats table for regular pieces of scraps doesn’t help matters much. It seems like the common attraction to food in all dogs is not a trait that can be curbed even with shinobi training, especially when they’re somewhere considered safe. Sometimes, he even goes under the tables reserved for other foods, like when the matron stands rather imposingly over the table with a glare that practically screams at him to eat a balanced diet.

Right, the Konoha vets are pretty much all Inuzuka. Perhaps they even know how to treat snakes?

“Nii-chan,” Orochi whispered with a mouthful of food. Realizing his mistake from the random splatters of stuff that flew out and his partner’s unimpressed slow pat on the back, he chewed quickly and spoke again when his face wasn’t stuffed with fried eggs. My little brother gives no shits that fried eggs are usually more of a breakfast food, or maybe that’s just my misconception. “Nii-chan, what was the academy like?”

Shit. That was today. 

I’m an absolute idiot who was supposed to go and register at the academy today, not go to a  _ bar _ to perform  _ music _ .

But wasn’t there supposed to be someone that was going to pick me up?

Shit.

* * *

After the disastrous realization that I  _ might’ve _ missed something really important and that no ninja came to pick me up to remind me, I went to sleep troubled. Or rather,  _ tried _ to go to sleep, and remained troubled.

Random tidbit of unneeded info: back Before, I pretty much never remembered any of my dreams, and was also at least a  _ bit _ of an insomniac. The second part hasn’t really changed much. However, nowadays instead of just staring at the insides of my eyelids for what feels like hours at a time, listening to the soft breathing of my family in close quarters, my mind gets drawn  _ in _ .

That... might be why instead of getting any restful sleep, I ended up sitting in the little copse of trees in my mindscape, humming a tune that I no longer remembered the words to.

After the Last Day, not once have I returned to my mindscape, unwilling to find what might’ve happened to it. With Konoha looming on the horizon, falling back into myself wasn’t a viable way of coping, and after getting a little scan done by a Yamanaka, probably even less so. But now that we are all relatively safe and secure and  _ probably _ in no danger of being disturbed, I sank into my mind, the steady-slow thump-thump of Dōsukēru’s heartbeat anchoring my descent into the space that should belong to me, and me alone.

Or it should’ve, at least until Yamanaka payed an unneeded visit that much long ago.

Point is, despite the events of the past week or so, remarkably little in my mindscape changed, which somehow made me feel that much guiltier. But if one wanted to debate over details, the trees were a bit more than saplings, and the grass looked decidedly less green than before. It would’ve been chalked up to imagination, but it felt like there was a chillier breeze as well, despite whatever physics that may or may not govern this corner of my world. 

Somehow there was still a faint hum of disordent music in the background, like a melody that followed me from the grave.

Feeling a touch too  _ done _ with it all, I inched forwards on my butt until the water could almost touch my feet, and twisted around so that I was parallel with the tiny shoreline.  _ Is it a shoreline if the body of water is only a pond? _ Probably not, but my mind, my rules. 

I reached out hesitantly, recalling that the last, and  _ only _ time that I tried touching the pond the water had seemed to blossom up into a whirlpool that could drag me under. It most definitely tried, but I had scampered out of the way and gave the water a wide berth for the next few days. If water could grow eyes, the pond probably was giving me a rather disgruntled stare for denying it prey or something.

Once again, the water reached out for my hand as well, a tendril of liquid flowing up in a convenient grove in the ground, and slowly inching towards my outstretched hand. If ponds could learn, then its actions would seem like it was trying to mimic a wave, pushing in and pulling out with a pattern that only the moon can control. 

Considering how it's normally a still-water pond in my head, the pond faking movement as a tidal pattern didn’t really work that well. 

But… What’s the most it can do? Quite sure it can’t drown me, being inside a mind and all, and even if that was a possibility, any thrashing around in the waking world would prompt my family to wake me up. If nothing else, the Inuzuka matron lady and her wolf-dog would probably also hear commotion or smell panic or whatever they do to find injured kids and probably run me to a Yamanaka.

As long as drowning in my mindscape doesn’t prevent me from actually breathing in the waking world, it should be fine, right?

I took a few deep breaths, and held the last. No time like the present then–

...

Huh. Apparently the water wasn’t even all that wet. In fact, it felt a bit as if it was the tongue of a cat, as in it  _ should _ feel wet, but because of some other aspect of its nature, it’s not.

A tad braver and more confident that the pool won’t try to kill me, I shimmied sideways (slowly to conserve the mindscape equivalent of oxygen) until I could plunge the rest of my arm into the pool. There was only the very basic sensation of wetness, but overall the substance just felt heavy and posed some form of resistance between that of normal water and vegetable oil (don’t ask, it was for science). Like before, the water blossomed a whirlpool, but this time around my hand, and all of a sudden I was yanked forwards like some godforsaken ragdoll headfirst into the pool.

Turns out liquid doesn’t have to feel wet for it to pose an obstruction to breathing, experimentally proven by allowing a miniscule amount of the liquid to flow into my nose (unfortunately stinging like acid and nearly prompting coughs), which made my previous decision of holding my breath that much smarter. The pond was also much deeper than it had appeared from land, as the bottom was obscured by the floating papery debris, and I continued to get dragged down like a brick through water until I reached the layers of drifting paper.  _ Shit _ .

The next now-improvised step to this utterly stupid endeavor would be to see if the water will try to hold me under, which, hopefully it won’t. Maneuvering so that I was more or less upright and not dragged down face first was a bit difficult, but doing so lessened a bit of the horror sinking in.

_ Once is enough, please,  _ please _ don’t let me die again– _ while praying to whatever entity that orchestrated my rebirth in the first place, I waved my metaphysical hands around a bit to test the resistance and possible currents.  _ If I don’t even get to finish childhood this time around (which admittedly is much more than what other dead people probably get), what’s the point of living again in another world? _

Surprisingly, there weren’t any more currents at the depth that the papers dwelled, which was a small mercy. The pages of floating debris had at this point almost completely blocked all visibility at this point, but apparently the bottom was only a few feet beneath the shallowest location of the papers. Touching down, however, startled me so much that I let loose a stream of bubbles that cheerfully floated away from me.

If my life wasn’t in danger of ending, I would’ve been tempted to catch the bubbles and inhale them. The faint ringing in my ears and the little mots of dancing black at the edges of my vision probably also curbed the intent to expend energy for a trivial task that might not succeed anyways.

(Thank fuck my lung capacity followed me from Before.)

But now that I was in contact with a bottom a lot more solid than originally assumed, it also granted me the chance to find my footing so to speak, and push upwards, or blast off like team rocket. 

So I did. Shuffling myself slowly into a crouch and facing up where the bubbles were slowly pushing through the mass of papers, I brought my arms up and palms together for minimum drag, and pushed off with my legs as fast as could be dared. 

Breaking through the layers of papers was easy, if randomly having no visibility and paper plastered to myself counted, but the second I hit the water above that layer, there was a drag.

Hence, panic, and bringing my arms down in a modified breaststroke and flutter kicked like my life depended on it.  _ To be fair, it sort of did. _

It got a bit hazy around there, but after what felt like eons of burning lungs and blackening vision and an audible  _ babumpbabump _ beating a drumbeat in my chest, my head broke through water. Furious strokes towards the shore were the next step to hopefully counteract the currents, and as soon as I sucked in enough oxygen to be a coherent human again, there may have been a bit of taking in huge gulps of air and holding it. The moment I could feel land at my feet and air on my face at the same time, I pushed out of the water and sprang onto land like a half-drowned cat. 

_ Sweet, beautiful oxygen~ _ I giggled to myself, giddy that my life was intact.

But, whelp. That was certainly unexpected. 

If my mind really wanted to kill me, it could’ve maintained the outwards dragging currents until I got too tired, or the downwards one, where I would’ve just straight up drowned. Instead, once I reached what could be rock bottom, the current lessened, and the water allowed me to just… swim back?

Ugh. 

Not to mention all the pieces of paper plastered to me along with the mindscape-clothing. Speaking of– holy shit, like, how many trees died to fill this backwater death trap with all this paper?

_ If these trees are only grown for them to die and suffocate me in a pond… _ I cast a suspicious glare at the little copse surrounding me, as if they would divulge me of their secrets just from a particularly annoyed look.

Trees being damned, that doesn’t mean that any of the stuff plastered to me would remove themselves without my actual doing shit. Hence the task of slowly peeling off drenched paper and chucking it at random trees. As stated previously, mindscape physics is weird, and sometimes behaves uncannily like reality.

Unfortunately like the properties of wet newspaper, it ripped easily, stuck to everything, and remained a general nuisance. The process took much longer than probably required, and might’ve actually have been easier had I done it in the physical world. At least sticking around in this mental world would leave me exhausted enough later to actually sleep, adrenaline from nearly dying be damned.

Thankfully clouds exist in this corner of the mental world, along with blue skies and trees and musical wind and so much more that I would never have imagined having all to myself back Before. 

Then the musical wind decided to tone up the dial and blew a piece of the now mostly dry paper at my face. I grimaced, peeling it off, and froze.

Sometime between being wet as a ball of cotton in water and being more or less dry, letters and pictures had appeared on the paper. “What the everloving hell?” I whispered to myself, rubbing at the faint markings that grew ever clearer. The one that landed on my face seemed to be part of a bill, except it was written in traditional Chinese? And the monetary value was insane with its six zeros? 

There was a part of me that couldn’t decide if it was iced over with dread or numb with disbelief, but when I scrambled for some other of the scattered pieces of paper, they were also drying into various stages of colorful hell. Another piece proclaimed that it held a monetary value of a hell lot, and a third was just the border piece of a particularly pink bill. Only the fourth was intact, and smack in the middle of it was the face of an emperor staring back at me– the Jade Emperor, the words denoting this as currency for the deceased a mocking reminder of what has been lost. 

There was something blurring my vision, and an ugly lump in my throat.

_ Fuck this shit I’m out. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I fell that this is quite a make or break chapter, hope you guys liked it, and sorry for the delay.  
> Please leave a kudos or comment on the way out, thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> How's the first chapter? Since this is a work that was originally posted on Fanfiction.net, I will be updating around once per week until I catch up with the other version, then updates will hopefully be around twice per month.  
> So yeah, thanks for reading!  
> ~Morningwing


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